Between Heroes and Saviors
by Randomnormality
Summary: What starts as a strange girl saving the life of Maes Hughes begins a chain reaction that begins to change the outcome of the FMA world.  Is it for the better?  What is her reason for being sent to the FMA world? Pairings chosen by you!
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: This is a twist from the usual 'OC pulled through the Gate into FMA world!' fic. The beginning might seem a little confusion, but it will be up to my readers and reviewers who Synthia gets paired with. I think I'm going to have Edward believing her to be a guy (explanation for the guise will be in next chapter), because it will be fun to have a confused Ed.**

**This chapter is dedicated to the one and only Maes Hughes, because I absolutely loved his character!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own FMA!**

**P.S. If anyone can guess Synthia's true intention and reason for being sent to the FMA world, I will give the person a special guest appearance/cameo!**

* * *

><p><strong>Prologue<strong>

_'It would be wrong to let a man with a loving family die.' - Synthia Esare_

* * *

><p>The single gunshot pierced through the night air. It was the single gunshot that seemed to spark a change in the air. Maes Hughes found himself crumbling to the ground, his shaky hand instantly moving to cover the wound in his side. The person before him, wearing the face of his beloved wife, held the smoking gun. He was going to die. He wasn't ready to die. He wasn't ready to leave behind his loving wife and his beautiful daughter.<p>

Out of no where, Maes hears a sickening crack and a howl of agony, his eyes pulling away from the picture of his wife lying on the ground not too far away. The person masquerading as his wife is no longer where she once stood, but instead, a pair of boot-clad feet appears in his vision. Glancing up, the odd clothing did nothing to hide the girl standing before him, her stance taunt and ready for action.

It isn't until after the footsteps of the masquerading person rushing away that Maes finds himself looking up into a pair of endless pools of silver. Mercury actually. Molten mercury. Maes tries to speak, but is silenced as the dark-haired girl kneels beside him, her hands gently easing him on his back.

"I am going to help you, but you must promise me one thing," Maes tried to speak again, but she shakes her head, "Do you want to see your family? Your wife and your daughter?" Unable to nod, he hopes that his eyes relays his affirmation, "No hospitals and no doctors. Do you hear me, Lieutenant Colonel Hughes? No hospitals, under any circumstance."

Maes says nothing before a soft, silver glow appears around the girl's hands. His lips part, refusing to be a part of some sick experiment, but his words are cut off again when the warm hands press with a gentle grace against his injured side. Instead of the pain he was sure he would feel, the warmth seems to spread throughout his body, the light from her hands growing brighter, forcing his eyes to shut. Almost as quickly as they were placed, the touch disappears and a whispered hiss causes his eyes to snap open. His hand immediately seeks out the wound, but finds it gone, the revelation forcing his body upright. Questions and endless appreciation were at the tip of his tongue, but died off as he sees the strange girl hunched over.

"Are you alright, Miss?" he asks, finally finding his voice.

"N-No, hos-hosp-pital," she cracks out weakly, her breathing heavy as she pulls her hand from her left side.

Maes managed to catch sight of the blood coating her hand before her body crumbles to the ground. Instantly gathering the girl in his arms, Maes races toward his home. His feet pound against the ground, forcing his body out of shock of near death, as his green eyes glance down at the unconscious and barely breathing girl in his arms. Who was she? What did she do to him?

He doesn't even take heed as he kicks in the door to his house, and almost instantly he meets the familiar face of his wife, a gun in her hand. Unlike before, the moment their eyes meet, Gracia immediately drops the weapon upon seeing her husband carrying an unconscious girl. The blood dripping from her husband's hands immediately sends her into instructions, motioning for him to take her into one of the guest rooms. Laying the girl down on the bed, he watches in a dazed sense as his wife tries to dress the wound, cleaning it and wrapping it.

"Maes, she needs to go to a hospital."

Hearing the words, he almost immediately agreed, but shook his head, "We can't. Gracia, she literally saved my life. That wound she has had been mine. How are we going to explain that to the doctors? I don't even know her name."

His final words trailed off, a sense of forlorn loss mixing with his words. It isn't as though he had never seen a fellow soldier take a shot for him. No. It was more about a nameless girl, no older than the Elric brothers, appearing out of no where and healing his wound. She knew it would bring her near the brink of death, and yet this stranger saved his life.

Thanking his wife with a gentle kiss, he watches as she leaves the room. Taking the seat next to the unconscious savior, he leans back, waiting for her to wake up. Staring at the white bandages, his eyelids grow heavy with exhaustion before darkness takes him deep within his mind.

A clattering crash causes Maes to jerk awake. Wondering why he was in the guest room, his eyes fall on the blood-stained sheets. The _empty_ blood-stained bed. Leaping to his feet, he moves through the house when another clamor of noise pulls him toward the kitchen.

"Are you an angel? Mommy says you saved Daddy," the small voice of his daughter, Elicia, seems to bounce off the walls of the hall.

Peering into the kitchen, Maes sees his darling daughter sitting at the table, her openly expressive green eyes following the movements of the strange girl. Instead of being bed-ridden, Maes watches as the girl moves around the kitchen, cracking eggs into the frying pan before she moves to a cutting board.

"I'm no angel, Sugar. I saved your Daddy because I could," the dark-haired girl states without moving her gaze from the onions as she begins chopping them finely.

"Why do you call me Sugar?" Elicia asks innocently, tilting her head curiously.

A small giggle leaves the other girl's lips as she picks up a small amount of onions from the cutting board and tosses them into the skillet, "Because you seem like the sweetest girl in the entire world."

Maes feels a smile form on his lips at the girl admission, a soft blush forming on his daughter lips, "D-Do people call you Sugar too?"

"More like Terror. I'm too hyper and hot-tempered to be considered Sugar," the girl replies playfully as she takes the already cooked bacon and tears it apart, tossing the pieces into the skillet.

"You seem sweet to me," Elicia points out innocently as her eyes follow the girl's movements as she adds a handful of shredded cheddar into the skillet.

After only a few minutes of pushing around the mixture in the skillet, the girl dishes a small portion of it onto a small plate, adding a piece of buttered toast to the plate before turning around. Maes catches her acknowledgment of him standing in the doorway, but she only smiles as she set the small plate in front of his daughter.

"Careful, it's going to be hot," she cautions Elicia before setting down a glass of orange juice next to his daughter's plate. "Would you like some, sir?"

Maes feels his eyes widen, "You shouldn't be making us breakfast, Miss..."

"Esare. Synthia Esare," the dark-haired girl replies with a soft smile, "and trust me, I don't have much of a choice. After last night, I need a hearty good meal in my stomach."

Maes winces at the memory, but the girl doesn't seem angered by having to save him. He agrees to breakfast and takes a seat at the table next to his daughter, who swallows her mouthful of food before cheerfully greeting him. Giving Elicia a small kiss on the top of her head, he turns his gaze to the girl, who once again begins to dance her way around his kitchen. He wanted to ask so many questions, but he didn't want to say anything in front of his daughter.

It isn't until two steaming plates of her concoction is set on the table that his daughter asks to be excused. Synthia slides him a mug of coffee before setting her own down in front of her plate, her body sinking into the empty seat.

"Gracia said she had to run into town for a few things. I hope you don't mind, but Elicia said she was hungry and I didn't want to wake you after what you had gone through last night," she states after taking a few sips of her coffee.

Maes nods in understanding, "H-How?"

"Can I trust you, sir?" Maes seems shocked at her question, slightly offended, but nods, "What I am about to tell you must not leave this kitchen. Not a _single_ person can know."

"You have my word," Maes promises sincerely.

Her mercury gaze softens from its stern glint, "My name is Synthia Esare, and I was born in the year 1993, in the world on the other side of the Gate."

Maes feels his eyes widen, choking on his mouthful of food before he forces it down his throat, "W-What?"

She shrugs while chewing her food, taking the time to swallow before she replies, "I'm not sure what happened. I was actually in the middle of a fight, trying to protect a friend of mine, and then, next thing I know, I'm dead." Maes blanches at her words, so carelessly thrown from her lips, "I woke up in front of a Gate and it sent me here."

"Why?" Maes questions.

"From what I understand, over the past years, due to the constant war, all of the blood being spilled and the over-all negativity, the Gate has become...tainted. It said that it wanted me to fix the fallen, give the lost a reason to live and to bring back the balance to life," she replies.

"Why are you telling me this?" Maes asks.

"You were never supposed to live past last night," Synthia answers simply, her eyes growing sympathetic.

"Then why did you save me, knowing you would become injured yourself?"

A flicker of surprise flashes on her face before her features soften, and Maes finds himself looking at a girl that has seen too much for one so young, "It would be wrong to let a man with a family die." She pauses for a moment, smiling sadly, "I could never live with myself if I knew I could save you."

"I can't thank you enough. If there's anything I can do in return," Maes offers, giving her a warm smile.

"There is one thing. I will be unable to do anything until after your fight with the Homunculi and I am hoping, in the mean time, you will keep my presence here a secret," she requests, her eyes hopeful.

Maes extends his hand, gently placing it over her own, "You may stay as long as you wish. In the mean time, I can even teach you of our ways, and I'll find a way to create some kind of background for you for when you come out in the open."

Maes knows it will be difficult, keeping this girl a secret from everyone- especially Roy, but she already felt as though she was family. A sister even. If there was one thing he'd always protect, it would be family.

* * *

><p><strong>Please leave a review! This is only the start. Unlike most Gate-Travel fics, I thought it would be weird if a girl, who seems obviously different, would just be able to toe around the FMA characters without raising suspicions. I used this thought to cement a bond between Maes and Synthia (Syn), that will grow into a familial sense. Seriously? Like Riza, Maes or Roy wouldn't be able to tell if someone is lying. Those military brats are quick on the uptake.<strong>

**Leave a review and let me know what you think!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: This is a twist from the usual 'OC pulled through the Gate into FMA world!' fic. The beginning might seem a little confusion, but it will be up to my readers and reviewers who Synthia gets paired with. I think I'm going to have Edward believing her to be a guy (explanation for the guise will be in next chapter), because it will be fun to have a confused Ed.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own FMA!**

**P.S. If anyone can guess Synthia's true intention and reason for being sent to the FMA world, I will give the person a special guest appearance/cameo!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter One<br>**_'Restoring eyesight is easy. Healing the blind is impossible.' -Synthia Esare_

* * *

><p>The newly promoted Brigadier General Maes Hughes watches his long-time friend seated behind the mahogany desk. While Roy Mustang, of similar ranking, had yet to curse or complain about his injured eye, Maes knew his friend enough to realize his friend was suffering in silence. The slightest change in eyesight makes it difficult for Roy to perform his Alchemy with the procession he has been known for.<p>

"Is something bothering you, Maes?" the calm voice of Roy breaks through his thoughts.

The green eyes stares at Roy for a moment later, before Maes decides to speak, "They still haven't found a way to fix your eye?"

"They say it is unable to be healed," Roy responds, and though he remained blank faced, the ice seeping into his words causes Maes heart to clench with sympathy.

"They have tried everything?" Seeing the pointed stare, Maes raises his hands in defense, "Alright, I'm sorry."

Maes knew that due to his injury, Roy would be unable to obtain the office of Führer. Unlike other members of the higher ranking Military Officers, Maes knew Roy's vision of the future is brighter than others. While Roy may be arrogant, the man had seen, and unfortunately been, a person used by the higher authority.

At the thought of a brighter future, Maes snaps to his feet, ignoring his friend's look of worry, "Sorry. I forgot I need to pick up Elicia from school today. I will talk to you later."

In the safety of his own home, Maes picks up the phone and dials a familiar number.

"There better be a pretty good reason for waking me up this late in the night," a familiar voice grumbled into the phone.

"Remember your promise of making a brighter future?" A grunt is his only response, "I need you in Central as soon as possible."

"I knew I should have let you bleed to death when I had the chance," the voice grumbles darkly.

Maes chuckles, hearing a teasing tilt to the tired voice, "Just come as you are."

"You do know _who_ I am at the moment right?"

"Please."

A sigh is his only response, "Alright. Expect me there within a week."

Maes hangs up the phone after giving the person many thanks. Hopefully, Synthia will be able to bring Roy's eyesight back.

* * *

><p>Edward Elric sighs as he sinks into the seat, his stomach full from eating at the dining cart. Unlike his brother, Alphonse, now fully restored in his body, Ed was on his way to Central. After being pulled back into this world, his younger brother decided to stay back in Resembool, while Ed continued trying to repair the destruction caused by the fight with the Humonculi.<p>

A soft tapping noise breaks him out of his thoughts, golden eyes moving toward the sound. Across the isle sat another teen, one leg thrown over the arm rest of the chair, a book held open by the splayed fingers of his left hand. The boy's mess of black hair fell over his eyes as they absorbed the literature. Ed instantly knew this boy was no Amestrian, or at least hasn't lived in Amestris for some time. The several silver rings decorating the shells of the boy's ears, and one located in the outer edge of his left eyebrow, Ed knew Drachman styles when he saw them.

The tapping sound seems to be coming from one of the several silver rings decorating the boy's finds, his index finger tapping against the cover of the book. A deep red t-shirt and a pair of black pants was the boy's complete outfit. Simple, yet seemed to make a statement regardless. The black swirls of ink decorating the length of his pale forearms was displayed for all eyes to see, but Ed couldn't believe no one was paying any attention to the boy.

"Do you mind?" Ed tenses as the boy's lips move, but his eyes never leave the pages of the book, "It really is irritating when people stare."

"Have you seen yourself?" Ed exclaims in his own defense, flushing at being caught staring.

Sharp silver eyes snap up from the pages to stare at him and Ed finds his chest tightening when those eyes soften with amusement, "Not at all. Mirrors are for the vain and envious."

Realizing the boy didn't take offense to his words, Ed smirks in response, "Or, you could just be too ugly?"

"If I was ugly, then why were you staring?" the boy shoots out just as quickly, his book snapping shut.

"It was out of pure horror."

"You know I'm sexy."

"HA! You couldn't get a girlfriend if your tried."

"Want to bet on that, Short Stack?"

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO SMALL HE COULD HIDE BEHIND AN ATOM!" Ed inhales, his face dark red as he stares at the amused boy, "Besides, you're shorter than I am."

"That might be the case, but you can't call me short," he responds, grinning at the golden-haired Alchemist.

"What else would they say? Midget?"

"I'd like to refer to it as fun-sized."

Ed falls silent, staring blankly at the other boy. Fun-sized? Not small. Not short. Not even pipsqueak. Fun-sized?

Despite the past few months being a whirlwind of confusion and heavy with emotions, Ed finds himself chuckling. The chuckles soon break into full-blown laughter. Why hadn't he thought of that before? This kid is a genius.

"I'd hope you aren't laughing _at_ me."

Ed shakes his head, "No way. That's perfect. I'm Ed, Edward Elric."

The boy's gaze flickers to his extended right hand, before his own right hand clasps it, "Syn Esare," Something must have shown on Ed's face, cause the boy gives him an uneasy smile, "I know. I have a strong belief that my parents never wanted me to begin with."

"Why would you say that?" Ed asks, quirking an eyebrow.

"Well, seeing as though I was dropped off on the step of an orphanage might be a pretty huge clue."

Though normally those kinds of words would be sad and full of grief, Ed hears nothing except for a matter-of-fact tone. The boy didn't seem bothered by the knowledge of abandonment. Not many people can say that, himself included. He can't remember how long he hated his father for leaving them. Ed finds himself falling into a long conversation, learning more about Drachma. Apparently, the boy had only been in Drachma for a few months, closer to half of a year, but was now on his way to Central.

When the train finally pulls into the station in Central, Ed bids the other kid a good-bye, silently wondering if they'd ever see each other again. The thought some how brings Mustang to mind, causing him to groan, cursing the need to report to him.

* * *

><p>Silver eyes watch as the infamous FullMetal Alchemist stomps off toward Central Head Quarters. Giggling, Syn turns on heel and makes her way through the vaguely familiar streets of Central. Finding the familiar house, she gently knocks on the door.<p>

"W-Who is it?" a small voice asks.

"I am the one, and I am the only-"

The door swings open, cutting off the older girl's words, as a small squealed, "Syn!", fills the air. Dropping her suitcase, Syn catches the girl as she throws herself at her. Grinning, Syn adjusts Elicia to set on her hip, despite the girl having grown in the past two years. Leaning down to get her suitcase, she steps through the threshold.

"Mama! Syn's home!"

Home. Syn smiles softly as she lets the girl down, instantly finding herself pulled into another hug. She hadn't been lying to Edward when she said she never really had a family. It still felt weird, Maes having _adopted_ her into the family, though records state her as an illegitimate child of Senor Hughes. Gracia pulls her into the kitchen, motioning for her to have a seat.

"It is so good to see you again. How were your travels?" Gracia asks as she begins making Syn a mug of coffee.

Syn shrugs, grinning up at the woman, "You know me. Drachma is more like my world than I realized. It was a good idea to check it out so Maes could incorporate it into my file. Speaking of the loving psychopath, where is he?"

"At the office. He usually heads over there when he hears one of the Elric boys are in town," Gracia states.

"Oh yeah, I happened to have met Edward on the train," Gracia sees the sheepish grin on Syn's lips and gives her a pointed look that only a mother can pull off, "He might be under the impression I'm a boy."

Gracia's worry immediately fades into soft giggles, "Are you ever going to tell him the truth?"

"Now how is that fun?" Syn retorts, sipping her coffee with twinkling silver eyes.

Shaking her head, the older of the two women sighs, "What am I going to do with you?"

"Strip me down to my birthday suit and force me to walk blindly down the street," Syn quips playfully in return.

The laughter in the room seems to lift the pending darkness from the house. Syn had felt it when she was walking through Central. The dismay. The worry. The absolute terror.

She'll have to fix that too.

* * *

><p>Maes chuckles as the door slams behind the disappearing form of Edward Elric. It never ceases to amuse him when he witnesses the arguments between both Ed and Roy. Ed was one of the few people that can get under the cool mask of Roy Mustang, but it was usually at his own expense. Did Ed purposely start the fights? Or is it just coincidence.<p>

"You're still here."

Maes glances up at his friend, a grins, "I have some news. Some good news. No, actually, it's beyond good, it's amazing!"

"Gracia's pregnant again?" Roy guesses.

Maes flushes at the thought, the idea causing a new sensation to form in his chest, but he shakes it off, "N-no. I found someone who might be able to fix your vision."

Roy's visible eye widens, "How? Who?"

Maes grins widely at his friends, "I happen to know of a very talented person that is willing to heal your eye."

"But?" Roy questions, realizing his friend had trailed off.

"Syn has a price. You kind of have to prove your worth," Maes adds.

"How would you know?" Roy demands, growling at the thought of groveling to someone else.

Maes's green eyes darkened for a moment, "Remember when I told you of the Humonculus that attacked me? Syn saved me life. Some kind of impressive healing Alchemy, I think. I have never seen anything like it before."

Roy's eyebrows narrow in suspicion, "How come you haven't spoken about this to anyone?"

Maes glances up at his friend, a soft, sorrowful glint in his eyes, "Syn just left. I tried to find files on the kid and boy was I surprised," Maes pauses, looking down at the floor, "I managed to find a file on a kid named Syn Esare, and his parents were Victoria Esare and Laurence..Hughes."

Roy's visible eyes widen, face visible with shock, "Your related to the kid?"

Maes's eyes darken, "That bastard and his mistress left the kid on the doorstep of an orphanage in Drachma. I kept in contact with Syn and when I spoke of you, Syn agreed to meet with you."

"When are we going to do this?" Mustang asks, wanting his sight back so badly.

Maes grins, the dark glint leaving his eyes, "Tonight. Right now if you wish. I can't make you any promises, but it's worth a shot."

For the first time, in a long while, Maes sees a look of pure hope and determination form on his friend's face. That alone told him Syn would go for it.

* * *

><p>Roy Mustang follows his friend through the streets of Central. Maes mentioned this kid had a price, that he had to prove his worth. Something in his friend's words leads infamous Flame Alchemist to ponder in what way would he prove himself. It's obvious that Maes holds a sense of respect for his estranged half-sibling.<p>

Approaching the Hughes residence, Roy's observant eye catches sight of a lone figure sitting on the front stoop of the house. The burning ember of a lit cigarette seems to brighten for a moment, dulling as the lips release the filtered end. Looking away from the cigarette, Roy finds himself staring into a pair of thoughtful silver eyes. The kid's appearance screamed of Drachman descent, but the moment the silver eyes catch sight of Maes, the thoughtful glint disappears, brightening with enjoyment.

"Those things are going to be the death of you," Maes grumbles in greeting.

A brilliant smile, something that reminded Roy of the newly corporal Alphonse Elric, appears on the kids face, a small plume of strangle red-tinted grey smoke, "These are far from being as toxic as the cigarettes made in Amestris. They're Xingese, more herbal than anything else."

"You've gone all the way to Xing?" Maes questions, looking slightly shocked.

The dark-haired boy chuckles, "Well, with that new rail system running from Amestris to Xing makes it easier to travel. Can you imagine me in the middle of a desert? I'd get half-way through the desert and turn back."

"What would be the point in that?"

Roy smirks at Maes's question, but the younger boy lets out a puff of smoke, quickly snapping in return, "I might be stubborn, but I refuse to taint my flawless skin with a tan."

That explains the slight pale tone in the boy's features. His silver gaze seems to move from Maes to him, and Roy tenses as the boy moves to his feet, flicking the cigarette out into the street. Before anything is said, Syn turns and opens the front door, motioning for everyone to follow.

"Gorgeous and Sugar are already in bed," Roy quirks an eyebrow at the boy's words before realizing he must be refering to Gracia and Elicia.

Taking a seat in the living room, Maes is quick to introduce him to the boy. The boy says nothing, his gaze turning blank as they look over Roy, nodding and grunting as Maes explains everything that has gone on. The silence is thick as Maes finishes his explanation, the boy never moving from his relaxed position.

"You seem capable. Why should I do this for you?"

Roy pulls from his thoughts, looking into the blank eyes, "My damaged vision makes it difficult to perform my Alchemy. It throws off my aim, and I falter in my control and concentration. This injury also hinders my ascension to Führer."

"Restoring eyesight is easy," Roy sighs, well that was easy, "Healing the blind is impossible."

"What?" Roy snaps, his hands clenching into fists.

The ebony-haired Drachman shrugs lazily, "How am I to believe you won't end up like the last Führer? How do I know the power won't go to your head? How do I know you won't use the status as Führer to your advantage and just take whatever you want?"

Roy jumps to his feet at the accusations, surprised Maes says nothing in his defense, "I was forced to kill people, people who surrendered, people who didn't deserve to die, because they were _orders_ and I was only a _soldier_. The last thing I want is to force my people to go against their sense of morality. I'm tired of fighting needless wars, tired of bloodshed. I'm tired of seeing families torn apart because of one man's _Pride_."

"You're positive about that? You'd promise? Swear it on the blood that runs through your veins?"

The harsh words causes Roy to take a step forward, "I'd swear on my _life."_

He wasn't aware with how close he moved toward the boy until a small hand grips his face, the palm flat against his left eye. He tensed, ready to fight, when he feels the arms of his best friend grip him firmly, keeping him in place. A brightening light forces Roy's eyes to snap shut, an odd burning sensation filling him before it is washed away by a sense of calm. The hand rips away from his face, and Roy pops his eye open just in time to see the heel of the boy's palm press against his left eye. As Maes releases him, instantly rushing to the boy crumbled to the floor in agony, Roy feels a swell of hope fill his chest as he removes the patch.

Blinking once, twice, thrice, and Roy gasps as his vision goes from black, to hazed, to blurry, to crystal clear. Everything in the room seemed to mold into sharp contrast. His healed eyes taking in everything, his vision as perfect as it had been, if not better. Turning to thank the boy, Roy finds his words caught in his throat. Maes had clapped a hand over the boy's lips, muffling the cries of agony, and for the first time, in a long time, Roy Mustang could call _himself_ a bastard.

It isn't long before Maes places the unconscious boy on the bed, tucking the blankets around his twitching body. Maes leads Roy into the kitchen, setting out to make coffee for the two of them. Confusion, joy, self-hatred mixes in Roy's mind.

"He'll be back to normal by morning," Roy glances up as a cup of coffee is set in front of him, Maes taking the empty seat on the other side of the table, "When he healed me, I was bleeding from a close-range gunshot wound," Roy's newly fixed eyes widen as Maes places a hand on his left side, "I was dying. Next thing I know, this boy just took the injury and pleaded with his final breath to not be taken to a hospital. That next morning he was making Elicia breakfast."

Roy feels something amiss, narrowing his eyebrows, "You're not telling me everything."

"Well, I can tell you Syn's full name is Synthia Esare," Roy chokes on his coffee, "She travels in the guise of a boy because there is a less chance of being attacked."

He was healed by a cross-dressing Drachman?

* * *

><p><strong>Leave a review! The chapters may be short now, but most of the chapter will be short because it pertains more to the quote given in the beginning, but most likely due to the short length of the chapters, it means there will be more focus on the personalities, how the changes in Amestris being and how Syn's presence begins to affect the characters of FMA! Let me know what you think. Something you enjoy, dislike, or might have an opinion on. If you want to see Syn interact with other FMA characters, let me know, and even what you might want to see (argument, deep conversation, flirting, teasing etc).<strong>

**JUST SO YOU KNOW: Syn CANNOT heal herself. It defeats the purpose of her being brought to the FMA world. She heals rapidly, but if she is injured (in a manner that isn't from healing someone else) she cannot heal herself. She is NOT all-powerful and she doesn't just heal EVERY person she'll come in contact with.**

**Some healing isn't just physical either!**

**Leave a review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Big thanks to xBishx for reviewing to my first two chapters. Please do review. I love to hear what people are thinking about the story, or what they might like to see as it progresses.**

**No, I still don't own FMA...even though I really wish I did.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Three<br>**_'Wounds may heal with time, but scars remain forever.'_

* * *

><p>Pools of endless silver snap open, pupils dilating to make up for the darkness of the room. Groaning inwardly at the pounding headache, Syn pushes herself upright, rubbing her forehead. That one hurt more than any other of her experiences. It might be due to the close proximity to her brain. Quickly closing her right eye, then repeating the manner with the left, she sighs when she realizes this one didn't leave her with any scars. As her thoughts freeze, she feels her body tense, her 'sixth sense' picking up another presence in the room. Following the feeling, a mild sense of shock registers in her hazy mind at the sight of the dark-haired military officer sitting in a chair next to the window. His onyx eyes, both, stare out at the night sky, and the slightest hint of fatigue shadows the area beneath his eyes.<p>

"You look like shit."

The onyx gaze snaps in her direction immediately, and despite his reputation, she sees a flicker of relief in the endless black depths. Feeling the gentle hum in the air, invisible to the General, but not to her, she realizes the promise had been solidified and bound. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she gives the obviously discomforted man a small smile.

"Thank you," the words left his lips, and even to her it sounded foreign coming from him. "I don't know how you did it, or why, but thank you."

"Just remember your promise," Syn states curtly, despite her softened features, "You put forth the change you speak so passionately about, and all will fall in order."

Roy Mustang nods in understanding, "I should probably let Maes know you are awake. He's been worried for the past two days."

"Let him sleep," she states, "I need to speak with you anyway."

"About?"

She sighs, running a hand through her short black hair, "You can't let anyone know that I was the one to do this."

"Can I ask why?" Roy questions.

He knows with her ability she would be famous. Known all throughout Amestris. She'd be a sovereign. A goddess. Sent to them to heal the injured and sick.

"If people were to find out about my abilities, some people will see it as a weapon. There are people out there that would _kill_ for my ability, despite the double-edge sword effect. Imagine what would happen, if everyone around Amestris learns of a teenager that can cure disease, lift ailments, heal wounds. What do you think will happen?" she asks him, not out of ignorance, but to prove a point.

Mass hysteria. A high demand, when it is obvious her abilities takes a toll on her body. The girl may be gifted, but she is still human. If the wrong people gained the wrong idea, she'd end up in a lab, experimented on. Roy understood her need for secrecy. He understood her need of freedom.

"Some may think I play a hand of some God or something, but that isn't the case. I can heal anyone I wish, no matter how bad the wounds. Yet, despite that, I believe there is a fine line of what I _can_ do, and what I _should_ do," Syn continues, her thoughtful silver eyes moving from the adjacent wall, returning to the older man. "There are those who deserve death. There are those who seek it. Then there are those who are in between. Those who reside in the in between are my targets. Not everyone deserves the punishment they received from the past wars and conflicts."

Roy realizes it must be harder on the girl than he originally thought. It wasn't just about healing people on a whim. It was about healing those who deserve better and about letting the dying pass on. Having to decide who she can heal, and who she must let go of. Roy cringes internally at the thought. He was glad he didn't have to make a choice like that.

"It must be difficult on you," he says, his eyes turning back to the starlit sky, "I can't imagine having to make a choice like that."

"Let's hope, with your future plans, that you never have to," she replies softly, "Tell me, General Mustang. If you can heal anyone, who would you heal above all else?"

Who would he heal?

Silver eyes watch in silence as the General decides to take his leave, once again thanking her and promising his sworn secrecy. Moving from the bed, Syn makes her way downstairs and writes out a quick note before leaving the house. It isn't that she isn't thankful for Maes's hospitality. After healing a person, the energy left from her body regenerating gives her a restless feeling.

Stepping off of the stoop, Syn lights up a cigarette before her left hand shoved into the pocket of her black duster jacket. She loved this jacket. Made from the hide of a Drachman bull, the leather was soft, light-weighted and managed to keep her warm. Hearing distant laughter, Syn cocks her head in the direction of the sound, her gaze sweeping over the street before landing on a tavern. Shrugging to herself, she inhales once more before crossing the street and entering the establishment.

The warm, welcoming atmosphere immediately causes her tense nerves to relax as she moves through the tavern, lazily walking toward the bar. Greeting the bartender with a curt nod, she places an order for a scotch glass of Xingese Whiskey. Unlike Amestrian whiskey, which was darker and harsher to down, Xingese whiskey was a softer, amber shade and smoother to swallow. Taking her scotch glass, her gaze instantly catches sight of three men sitting around a table, a simple game of poker splayed out in front of them. Tempted to join, she sips the whiskey as she heads over to the table.

"May I join you guys?"

Her question causes all three to look up and immediately she sees them share a look. Hm, men of the military. She finds herself interested in the three odd-ball militant men. Quirking a pierced eyebrow, she inwardly giggles as they agree. Fishing a small wad of cash, she places it on the table before taking the seat next to a blonde-haired man.

"Jean Havoc," he greets, a small plume of smoke leaving his lips as he grins over at her, "This here is Heymans Breda," she nods curtly at the stocky auburn-haired man, "and Kain Fuery."

Giving another nod to the seemingly youngest of the three, she gives a soft smile, "Syn Esare."

"So, what's a Drachman boy like yourself doing in Central, Amestris?" Fuery asks as he shuffles the cards in his hand.

Not bothering to correct their gender mix-up, Syn shrugs, waving his hand dismissively, "Visiting my brother. The family is sleeping and I wasn't tired so I went for a walk."

Taking the five cards, she glances over the numbers and suits before discarding three cards. Taking the three cards she is given in return, she shifts the cards around before waiting for everyone else to finish.

"I don't think I've ever seen cigarettes with red smoke," Havoc states as he discard two cards before being dealt an additional two.

"Xingese," she replies curtly, giving the blonde man a wink, "I travel a lot, trying to help out villages and people affected by the recent conflicts," she tries to ignore the subtle tension that fills the three men, "During my stay in Xing, I quickly learn they carry the best whiskey and smokes money can buy."

"Is that so?" Breda questions, trying to relax the tension. "What do you do to help the people?"

Inwardly smirking, she realizes they are trying to fish for information. These men were not ignorant like most soldiers. Most would realize her last name, or any sense of recognition on her person, has never been posted in newspapers or anything of the sort. These three men must not recognize the name and therefore doubt her words.

Not bad.

"Mostly medical attention. Growing up in a Drachman orphanage, I quickly had to learn how to tend to my own scrapes and bruises. I studied a bit deeper and now I tend to travel around, helping people out," she explains, watching as Havoc lays down a hand containing a set (or three of a kind) of in sevens.

"Really? That's pretty impressive for someone your age," Fuery comments as he lays down his own hand containing a run (straight) from eight to queen.

Breda lays down his own hand, a simple pair of queens, "You must be pretty smart."

Syn shakes her head, "On the contrary, I'm not. I happen to be good at mending injuries, giving a helping hand in rebuilding homes and I lean toward a more philosophical mind-set than an intellectually stimulated one."

She sets down a hand, hearing groans as a flush of clubs appears on the table, "That, gents, was pure luck."

She takes the small stack of chips as Fuery begins to collect and shuffle the cards again. Pulling out her pack of cigarettes, she hands one to Havoc, who looks surprised, but takes it regardless. Lighting his cigarette, she gives him a small smirk as his eyes widen after inhaling. Lighting her own cigarette, she takes the five cards dealt to her and begins shifting them around her hand again.

"They taste like...cinnamon."

She nods, grinning slightly, "Xingese uses a cinnamon-blended tobacco plant that gives the cigarette a flavor. They're also less toxic than Amestrian cigarettes."

"What's with the tattoos?" Breda asks, glancing over her decorated forearms.

"There was a house fire in a town I was visiting and, me being the person I am, rushed in without a second thought when I heard a child was trapped upstairs. The tattoos cover the scars from the fire," she responds, ignoring the sudden silence that falls over them as she trades two cards from her hand.

"Why cover them when they're just going to go away?" Fuery asks.

She sets down her hand of two pairs in eights and jacks, "Wounds may heal with time, but scars will never fade." The three snap their attention toward her somber words, but she shrugs in return, "I had only been able to save three of the five kids that had been trapped in the burning house. That's two less than I would have liked, and I can't forget those memories, but learning from them and moving on," silver eyes meet their gazes, a sly smirk on her lips, "Isn't that what life is all about? Learning, continuing and passing on your knowledge to a younger generation, in hopes they don't make the same mistake?"

The moment her whiskey is gone, Syn stands from the table, "Sorry, guys, but I must take my leave."

They groaned, praised her poker face and bid her good-nights. Sliding the empty glass to the bartender, Syn slides her hands back into her jacket. Pulling her pack of cigarettes from her pocket, she removes a cigarette. With one hand flat against the door, she glances over at the three military officers, arguments and teasing over the card game.

"Oi, Havoc," she watches the blue eyes of Jean Havoc meet her own before she pops the single cigarette in her mouth and tosses the rest of the pack through the air, "Maybe that will stop you from smoking all that toxic shit."

Syn steps out into the cool night air, exhaling the red-tinged smoke and a small smile forms on her lips as the shadow, seen only by her trained eyes, cast over the city seems to lighten. Feeling the darkness slowly thin out, she can't wait til her next trial. Glancing down at the swirl of ink on her left arm, her trained eyes sees the soft red glow outlining the runic symbol. Almost everyone sees the tattoos as just straight, solid designs, when the lines marking the designs were in fact made up of extremely small runic symbols.

_Strength._

Well, isn't that a strange one, she thinks as she follows the familiar path to her _brother's_ house.

* * *

><p>Roy Mustang enters the office, the slightest sound of his trusted subordinates and friends conversing filled the air. The faint scent of cinnamon pulls the sharp onyx eyes to the blonde man leaning against a wall, a lit cigarette leaving his lips before a soft stream of red-tinged smoke escapes his lungs.<p>

Red smoke. Xingese. Herbal.

Roy smirks to himself. It seems as though Syn managed to fix another person, without them realizing it. Smart girl.

Hearing a familiar knock, he glances up as Hawkeye enters the room, her amber-brown eyes widening at the sight of him. The slightest hint of confusion forms in his mind, but instead he leans forward, placing his chin on the palm of his hand, flashing her a lazy smile.

"What's the matter, Hawkeye?"

"Y-your eye. It's healed. Is this where you've been for two days?" his long and most dear friend questions in surprise.

He hadn't realized never putting on the eye patch, a small, true smile forming on his lips, "Maes managed to find a person that uses a form of healing Alchemy. We weren't sure it was even going to work, but next thing I know, my vision goes from black to...clear."

Keeping his promise in the back of his mind, he answers Hawkeye's questions to the best of his ability. There was only one question on his mind.

Who was the girl going to save next?


	4. Chapter 4

**Oh, to my newest reviewers I want to thank you so much! To answer some questions: This story follows the Original Anime, not because I like it better, but because it works better with the story. I like the idea of Ed retaining his Alchemy, and using it to help rebuild a country that has been through so much. I promise you, I check all of my facts off of the FMA wikia-page that goes into a LOT of detail about each and every character from both anime. I have taken my creative allowance and changed TWO major things, which will be revealed in this chapter.**

**Some more Ed/Syn arguments ahead! Enjoy, review and don't forget, give me any ideas on people you might want Syn to come across.**

**No, I still don't own FMA...even though I really wish I did.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Four<br>**_'It is not your physical strength that called me here, for I see your internal battles.'_

* * *

><p><em>Strength- the quality of being physically, mentally, or morally strong.<em>

The dim light within the small study at the Hughes' Residence gave off a small glow around the room, reflecting and refracting against the single scotch glass gently clutched in a fingerless-gloved hand. Silver eyes stare blankly at the adjacent wall, focused completely on the large Amestrian map as a small silver switchblade flipped and dangers across and between the nimble fingers of the other hand. A week had passed since the runic symbol on the left arm became outlined in a deep, angry red.

Curious.

Syn lifts the glass of golden-amber whiskey to her lips, sipping it thoughtfully as she continues to stare at the large map. A short, curt grunt rumbles in her throat after a knock sounds against the door to the study. Being as late as it is, Syn was not surprised when she felt the familiar aura of Maes step forth. The older man had indeed grown into the status of a brother, and each time, she feels her heart clench at the thought. She had never had a family, had never known the type of love she sees each and every morning and evening as she sits with them during meal times.

Love. A foreign word in her vocabulary. She had known the camaraderie of friendship. It had been ingrained in her mind during her time as an orphan street-rat. Yet friendship, or companions, was all that they were. They hadn't been family, even if they stole and terrorized the town together as a pack. If one fell, they never turned back, never thought twice. Not love, but a means of living, a mutual understanding that it was survival of the fittest.

"What's with the knife?" Maes asks, breaking through her thoughts.

The blade instantly flips between her fingers before laying flat in her open palm, "I find it easier, when I cannot figure out my next target, to let destiny lead the way."

She does not wait for his response before the knife flips around her fingers once again before coming to a halt, clamped between her thumb and her index and middle fingers. Rearing back, her arm snaps forward, the switchblade flying through the air with deadly procession before it embeds itself inches into the adjacent wall. Her silver gaze follows Maes as he approaches the map, pulling the knife from the wall. It takes only a minute longer before he turns to face her, snapping the switchblade shut.

"Know anyone in Dublith?"

* * *

><p>If there was one thing Edward Elric hated more than anything was being forced to wait. Add that dislike with the fact that he was clearly being ignored by his commanding officer, who seemed to <em>actually<em> be doing his paperwork, and you'd find a very irritated Edward Elric. True to his nature, and a way to get rid of the heavy silence in the room, his right foot (the flesh one) began tapping in a repetitious manner. It didn't take long for him to pick up on the annoyance growing in the General Bastard after each minute of his insistent tapping.

"Do you mind, FullMetal?"

Ed didn't respond as his mind drifts in wonder. When did the General's eye heal? He first asked about a week ago, but the General had said he had found someone capable of performing an impressive procedure. Knowing that Mustang wasn't telling him everything, Ed's irritation grows, the speed of his tapping gradually speeding up.

"Is there a reason I'm here, Bastard?" Ed demands, trying to hold back his irritation, but knowing it wasn't working.

"Once our guest arrives, I will explain everything," Mustang responds calmly, still not glancing up from his work.

Ed feels the tick in his jaw as his teeth grind together, his lungs expanding as he feels his anger growing. His foot stills as he stands upright, his palms pressing against the top of the man's desk. Opening his mouth to spew out words of 'this shit taking forever', a soft knock sounds before the door opens. Turning around, Ed sees Hawkeye standing in the doorway.

"General, sir, there's a boy out here claiming you requested his presence," the blonde female Lieutenant states, obviously confused by the guest.

"Good. Send him in."

Ed whirls back around, glaring at Mustang, who _now_ looks up from his paperwork. With thoughts of telling the Bastard where he can shove his guest, Ed never notices the soft footsteps enter the room and pause a few feet behind him. He never takes note of the grin that appears on the guest's face, which Mustang quirks an eyebrow at, causing Ed to sneer in response.

"It's be a while, Short Stack."

Hearing the words, Ed spins, fist clenched at his side, but the tension leaves his body the moment his gold eyes meet silver. Seeing the amusement glistening in the silver gaze, Ed shakes his head, his eyes instantly taking in the same baggy outfit, gloves and boots. Familiar tattoos and glints of stainless steel pulls forward a slightly recent memory.

"Syn?"

The other boy nods, grinning at him in return, "I wasn't sure I'd see you again, to be honest."

"Mr. Esare is here for business, FullMetal. Have a seat.

The only reason Ed finds himself complying is the respect hidden in the usually commanding and indifferent voice. Mustang knows this boy. Is this why he's in Central? Since when did the Amestrian Military hold tolerance for the out-of-the-world appearances of Drachman teenagers. Ed knows this Drachman boy can't be older than himself, maybe about Al's age.

"Alright, what's going on?" Ed questions after only a moment of silence.

Mustang steeples his fingers together as he leans toward his desk, "Mr. Esare, may I let Edward in one the current situation?"

"Well, I suppose."

Mustang turns his onyx gaze on the young Alchemist, "Mr. Esare is the one who healed my vision," Ed tenses, sending the silently lounging boy next to him a look of shock, "He asked if there had been anyone else that might need healing and I remembered that your Alchemy teacher is gravely ill. Mr. Esare has agreed to look into the situation and see if he can do anything in return to help her."

"No one can heal her. It's impossible," Ed whispers, trying to fight back the sorrow.

"Yet everyone believed I would remain with only one working eye," Mustang replies.

A yawn from next to Ed pulls his attention to the dark-haired boy, who links his fingers behind his head, staring up at the ceiling, "I can't_ promise _that I'd even be able to heal her, but it's something I've been doing in other countries for the past two years. I figured the General, of all people, would know people in need of serious help and your teacher had been the first on his list."

Ed says nothing in response. How can he explain Teacher's illness without exploiting her past experience with the ultimate taboo? He knows most of her internal organs were taken for trying to bring back the life of her unborn child.

"Look, Ed," a gentle sigh from Syn causes him to glance over, seeing the boy now leaning forward, his forearms resting on his knees, his silver eyes saddened and for a moment, the FullMetal Alchemist felt his stomach twist at the emotional display on the normally happy boy's face, "I cannot promise, I'm not even sure if it will work, but I will do everything I can. If she truly is your teacher, then she must be one strong woman, and it wouldn't feel right if I didn't try."

Ed swallows the sudden lump that forms in his throat at the boy's somber words. He had never met someone that cared for people they have never met. This Drachman boy, in all his strange physical attributes, seemed to carry demons of his own. Could this boy really undo the damage? Could he really perform the impossible?

"Alright. I will take you to her," Ed responds gently, despite his hesitation on hoping for the impossible to happen.

* * *

><p>Inwardly sighing, Syn glances over at the infamous Alchemist who laid sprawled across the bench seat of their train compartment. She wondered why he wouldn't look at her, as she sat on the bench across from him. With her back pressed against the wall, the door to their compartment off to her right, she allowed her head to fall back and rest against it, her left leg extended across the bench, her boot-clad foot pressed against the other wall. Her opposite leg rested on the bench, except her knee remained bent, her Xingese book resting against it, held open with only one hand. Her eyes stare blankly at the book, her mind focused on her companion's teacher. She knew Ed didn't believe her ability to help his teacher, but something about the sorrow in his golden eyes made her feel determined.<p>

A familiar burning itch forces her to fight back the slightest hiss. Instead of her left arm, her gaze slips down to her right, and one of the small runic symbols began to heat up just enough for it to gain the same angry red outline as the other. Peering down at the symbol, she feels her eyes widen. She knew what the right arm meant and she dreads the idea of what will come of it. The meaning behind the runic symbol burns great in her mind.

_Ire. Things are becoming more curious. How is Ire connected to Strength?_

She glances over at the silent boy, who has yet to look at her. Is it her? She had heard stories of his adventures. Thinking back, she feels a sense of understanding fill her body. It isn't the fact that she is here. It must be more about who _isn't_ here.

"Tell me about him," she says, breaking the silence, her eyes moving back to her book, "Maes and Mustang often speak of an Alphonse Elric. I, sincerely hope, he is not someone you have lost."

"No. He's alive," came the short reply.

"Will you tell me about him? I have heard great things about the both of you, and I am more curious than anything."

It is silent, and just when she gives up hope of breaking the growing tension, she hears him say, "Al is the best person you'll ever meet. Kind. Caring. Loving for everything. He always comes off as naive, but sometimes I think he sees more than most believe. He has a thing for picking up stray cats. He's incredibly smart. He's compassionate, to everyone, even sometimes our adversaries. In all honesty, he is good, in every aspect."

"You should be proud," she replies, glancing over at him, meeting the soft gold eyes before she grants him a small smile, "and I have no doubt he would be proud of you as well."

"I doubt it. I'm kind of a screw up. I'm hot-tempered. I'm impulsive. I have all this knowledge and have absolutely no idea what I should do with it. I accomplished so much too early and now I'm not even sure where I can go from here," Ed sighs, turning his gaze back to the ceiling.

"If I had a brother, like either of you, I believe I would be proud," she ignores how his eyes suddenly snap toward her, "The brother I have, I have only known for two years now. I know he tries to bring me into his family, and they are such a wonderful family, but I feel as though I am always an outsider, looking in."

"Don't sell yourself short, Syn," Ed responds.

"The neither should you," Syn snaps in return, her voice calm as she glances over at him once more, "It isn't that I don't care about my brother, I just don't feel that bond with him yet. Maybe, something will come of it, but for the majority of my life, family has been something of a dream, something that is there, right in front of you, but never to be your own. It is hard, going from having absolutely no idea about family, to being thrown into the midst of one. You should never question your love for your brother, nor the love I'm sure he has for you."

Nothing is said. There is no reason for it. She knows her words are correct, and she can feel a sudden shift in the air. An understanding. A mutual beginning to the start of something new.

When they finally arrive to Dublith she follows Ed through the small town and along a path that leads to a house. The house alone sits on wide open property and Syn finds herself smiling softly at the beautiful landscape. She remains silent as Ed knocks on the front door and it takes only a moment for it to open. Fighting back a gasp, and trying to school her facial expressions, she stares at the boy with long ebony-hair and deep violet eyes. Noting the automail limbs, mirroring Ed's amputations perfectly, and the pale skin, she takes a moment to look away. The odd feeling in her stomach gives her a sense of discomfort.

"Wrath," she bites the inside of her cheek when she hears Ed greet the boy in a tone of indifference, "We need to speak with Teacher."

"Where is Alphonse?" the other boy asks, his tone curiously innocent.

"At home with Winry and Auntie."

She feels the boy's gaze on her, "Who is he?"

"Syn Esare," Ed states, motioning between them, "I wanted to talk to Teacher about something important."

"Is he your boyfriend?"

The innocent question causes Syn to snort, fighting back her laughter as she watches Ed's cheeks darken, taking on a soft pink tinge. Oh, this trip might be more amusing than she thought. She sometimes forgets her guise as a boy. Besides Roy and Maes, no one knows her feminine attributes. Not in a way of deceit, but more as a test. Maes and Roy request her 'cross-dressing' for her protection, as Maes has often commented on her feminine qualities might catch unwanted attention. For her though, it is always a test. A test of what a person sees. A true test of friendship.

Not to mention it's always fun to mess with people.

"He's not my boyfriend, asshole," Ed snaps out.

Syn grins inwardly, keeping her face blank, "I thought our relationship was starting to mean something to you."

She inwardly giggles as a look of horror appears on the face of her blonde companion, but he growls, shoving his hands in his pockets before pushing past Wrath. Seeing the confused look on the younger boy's face, Syn can't help but give him a teasing wink. A glint of understanding appears in his eyes before he lets out a childish giggle before she follows Ed up the staircase.

Entering the room, she sees Ed speaking to a woman. Her braided dreadlocks pulled back behind her head, her pale face giving the young blonde man a soft smile and Syn easily picks up on a familial sense. Her silver eyes slide shut as she listens to Ed explain their reason for being here. Their voices begin to fade as her senses stretch across the room.

_Strength._

_A beautiful, strong woman. Darkness within. Hollow. Incomplete. Illness. Suffering_.

"Syn."

Hearing her name forces her senses to snap back into place, her eyes sliding open to rest on the woman before her, and without some much as a pause, Syn's lips part and her words leave her lips, "How long have you been ill?"

"WHAT?" Syn flinches at Ed's loud tone, "Can't you be a little more...sensitive to the subject?"

Syn does not remove her gaze from the woman as she responds, "From what General Mustang, and you, have told me, Mrs. Curtis is a woman of pride, strength and talent. It would be wrong of me to show her pity, because I feel as though she would not accept it." Seeing the woman smirk at her once-student, Syn continues, "Mrs. Curtis is a woman that does not tolerate it when people 'beat around the bush', so to speak. With that thought in mind, I figured she'd appreciate a more direct approach."

Syn listens as Ed leaves the room five minutes later, on the request of his teacher. After a moment of silence, Syn turns her complete attention on the older woman.

"I will be honest with you, Mrs. Curtis. Ed brought me here under the false pretense that it was requested by General Mustang," she ignores the way the woman shifts, her body tensing for a fight, "It was in fact me who requested it. I have a _gift_ and in order to use it, I must follow the path that calls me. It was under the notion of Strength that I requested to travel here."

"As you can see, I'm not all that strong," Izumi states, motioning toward her weakened body.

"It is not your physical strength that called me here, for I see your _internal_battles," Syn watches the woman's eyes widen, "What will you do if I can grant your body that which has been lost?"

Izumi's eyes soften, "Watch my son grow. Give him a better life than the one he's dealt with."

"What I am about to show you, you must not tell anyone. Edward believes my abilities to be Alchemy, and I'm afraid that is all the knowledge I can give someone who is not to be healed by my hand."

"What about my son?"

Syn closes her eyes, thinking back to the boy.

_Ire._

So that is the connection.

"I will do what I can to absolve his wrong-doings, but I must tend to you first."

Syn does not wait for Izumi to speak as she clenches her left hand into a fist, feeling her palm heat up. Uncurling her fingers, the soft glow illuminates the room as she stretches out her hand and places it over the woman's stomach. She grits her teeth as the torturous pain seems to rip her insides to shreds, and only when the heat dies down does she yank her hand away. She has no time to ask how Izumi feels, her body hunches over in pain as a sickening cough forces its way through her throat and past her lips. As crimson stains her palm, she finally looks up into the wide, horrified eyes.

"D-Don't worry. It will pass for me. J-Just, don't say anything, ok?" Syn pleads.

Realization appears in the woman's eyes, quickly followed by respect and resolve. Syn's vision begins to darken and before she feels it take over, she whispers out her simple request.

_No hopsitals._

* * *

><p>Ed glances up as he hears a door open and upon the seeing Izumi Curtis move down the stairs as if nothing had ever been wrong, he feels a smile form on his lips. That Drachman kid managed to do it. He- Ed glances around Izumi, but there is no sign of Syn. Looking up at Teacher, he is given a soft smile and a curt nod.<p>

"Apparently, the Alchemy that kid uses is hard on the body. Syn just needs to rest," Izumi states, rubbing her hands together as she feels her strength returning, "Now, there's just one thing left to do."

"Wait for him to wake up?" Ed asks, quirking an eyebrow in confusion.

A boot-clad foot slams into his stomach, the force causing him to fly back and through the open door. Landing on the ground, Ed barely manages to leap out of the way as a fist slams into the ground where his head had once been, a small crater forming in the earth. A smirk appears on his lips as he sees his teacher in action once more, watching as one of the strongest women he knows starts a small sparing match between them.

He'd have to thank Syn whenever he woke up.

* * *

><p><strong>SEE WHAT I CHANGED? At the end of the CoS movie, or throughout, both Wrath and Izumi die, or are previously dead. I absolutely hated that the original series killed her off, and that is what makes me enjoy Brotherhood so much. Yet, since I am following the original anime series, I can't bounce back and forth like I've seen in some stories. There might be some background in some characters that is described in Brotherhood that I might use, but for all intense purposes, this follows the Original.<strong>

**Thanks again for reading, and please review. Next chapter will show the _darker_ side to Syn's abilities.**


	5. Chapter 5

**No, I still don't own FMA...even though I really wish I did.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter<strong> **Five**  
><em>'It isn't a matter of giving a person a soul, it is finding the soul buried deep within.'<em>

* * *

><p>Crimson spewed from her lips, her pale face hovering over the toilet in a manner most people do after a night of heavy drinking. As the last clot passes through her throat and out of her mouth, she can't stop the shudder that convulses her weakened body. Staring into the crimson water, she flinches, realizing this is what Izumi had gone through for far longer than need be. Pulling her self up, she leans against the sink, her shaky legs weak and knees threatening to buckle. Staring at her stark white face, she flinches again as she stares into the crimson-silver eyes reflected back at her. Her eyes were a side-effect she hid, most of the time it disappeared before she awakens.<p>

"Syn," A gentle knock sounds on the door, Ed's voice drifting through the wood, "Are you alright?"

Turning the faucet, she watches the clear water run from the spout before cupping her hands beneath it. Watching the water fill the space between her hands, she inhales deeply before splashing it against her face, successfully washing away any remains from her lips or chin. Spitting into the sink, she stares as the last of the blood swirls down the drain. Turning off the water, she gently dries off her face, watching the crimson color slowly seep from her eyes. Once her eyes return to their mercury depths, she lets out a soft sigh before stepping away from the sink.

Another knock sounds on the door, "Syn, you're starting to cause Teacher to-"

Pulling open the door, she comes face to face with a relieved face and soft gold eyes, "I'm fine. It's a side-effect from healing people. I sometimes get sick to my stomach. Usually, like at the present moment, my energy builds back up and it makes me restless."

"Oh," Ed gives her a nod, "Well, I- err, we are happy you're alright."

"Well, wouldn't you make for a caring boyfriend," Syn teases, feeling her nerves beginning to tingle.

A hot flush appears on Ed's cheeks, "Asshole."

Syn bites down on the inside of her cheek, trying to not laugh at his expense. Stepping off to the side, Syn makes her way around the flustered nineteen-year-old, wanting to check up on Izumi. Feeling a strong grip gently clasp around her wrist, she feels herself stop in mid-step, turning to look at the suddenly serious face.

"I don't know how to thank you for what you did," Ed murmurs, obviously not used to needing help.

Syn's laughter fades from her eyes, the glistening silver orbs softening as a small smile tugs on her lips, her hand moving to gently rest on his shoulders, "You will never need to thank me, Ed. I do these things because I can, not for thanks, or appreciation, or even respect. I do it because there has been too much hurt in this world and not enough love."

"Either way, thank you. Izumi is the closest thing Al and I have to a mother," Ed responds, his gold eyes hazing over with thought.

Stepping back and out of his grasp, Syn bites back the strange sensation burning along her cheekbones, "Hey Ed," She sees him snap out of his thoughts as she turns back to staircase, "You're pretty good at fighting, right?"

"I'm decent. Why?"

Syn bows her head, using her unkempt hair to shadow over her face, hoping to hide her darkening eyes, "Just curious, is all."

Leaving the house, Syn catching sight of the small boy sitting out in the field by himself. Without saying a word, or disrupting his thoughts, she gently sits down next to him. Closing her eyes, she feels the heavy darkness surrounding the boy. Too young to have shouldered these burdens. Too young for the terrors he has committed. His need and desire of absolution. To be free of the darkness that shadows his life. The over-all self-hatred.

"I can free you," she says, opening her eyes as she feels his gaze suddenly on her, and she grants him a soft, pleasant smile, "I can feel your anger. Anger toward other people is easy, anger toward yourself is hard to dismiss. You have yet to learn how to release the self-hatred, and it is causing you to isolate yourself from your family."

"Don't talk to me as if you know!"

She isn't shocked at the boy's harsh words, but glances up at the sky, "Do you not want to be a part of your family? If I had parents that cared for me even half the way Izumi and Sig care for you, I probably wouldn't have the issues I carry with me. You think I don't know what it feels like to be abandoned? To be left behind? To be alone in a hard, cold world? I can help you, Wrath, but you have to want it."

Feeling him shoot to his feet, she instantly follows, not at all surprised by the tears in his eyes. The rage in his heart, festering and eating away at the soul that once was. A fist of pure, undiluted fury flies through the air, and using her senses, her palm catches the automail fist. Feeling her left arm forced back from the harsh blow, she hooks her leg around the back of his and sweeps his feet out from under him the same instant the open palm of her right hand connects solidly with his chest. Following the body as it slams to the ground, the harsh deep purple glow burns in the palm of her hand and her eyes watch as the deep violet color seeps away from the boy's eyes.

_Tears._

Her own eyes slide shut as the glow pulls from his body, the festering hatred consuming her. Releasing the boy, she stumbles away, groaning, trying to fight it off. The fury of being left alone. The hatred at existence. Her body hunches, shoulders quivering as the anger grows deep with her chest. Swelling. Begging for release.

A hand rests on her shoulder, breaking her hold over the anger.

* * *

><p>Ed ducks beneath the vicious punch, a sudden fear and disbelief as silver-tinted violet eyes stare back at him with unbridled fury. He feels Izumi race over to the unconscious Wrath, but his attention rests on the angry boy attacking him. A solid foot connects with his chest, but he takes the hit, pulling back his left fist. It connects with his cheek and Ed winces in sympathy, only to duck from another attack.<p>

What happened? What did Wrath do to Syn? Something about the wild craze in the violet-steel eyes causes his stomach to clench. It isn't right. This boy, who laughs at life. This boy who seems to carry his demons with him, yet continues to view the world with hope for better.

"Syn! Stop! You aren't being yourself!"

Ed wasn't sure if anything he said is making any sense, his focus torn between dodging his surprisingly quick and accurate attacks and trying to get his new-found friend back into a right state of mind, "Come on, Syn. This isn't you! Snap out of it!"

"Hit him," Ed glances over his shoulder, seeing Wrath's dark brown eyes staring widely at Syn, "_Really_ hit him."

Ed never sees Izumi's lips part as his automail fist clenches together. He doesn't hear the shout to stop, his metallic knuckles slamming into the exposed stomach of the dark-haired Drachman. The moment he sees the violet seep out of the silver eyes, widening in shock, he feels the tension leaves him.

When a horrid cough rips from the boy's throat and crimson splats against the metal of his right arm, horror fills him as his friend's body collapses to the ground. He swallows the bile that forms in his throat, recognizing the familiar coughs and blood that had once inflicted his Teacher. Izumi seems to appear next to the fallen boy, wasting no time to rush the unconscious boy into the house.

"I-I'm sorry," Ed glances at the once-Homunculus, taking in the human appearance of a normal twelve-year-old boy, "I remember how hard you hit, and I-I thought it would snap him out of it," Ed's gold eyes widen at the sight of human tears forming in the little boy's eyes, "H-he did something that took it away."

Moving toward the house, Ed manages to appear in the doorway as Izumi comes down the staircase. He knows his thoughts are written on his face. When she motions for him to follow her, he is lead to the small kitchen, his eyes following her as she makes tea.

"What did he do to you? Wrath said he took it away," Ed whispers.

"He healed my body, Edward, and absolved Wrath of his past tribulations. He gave me back my life and my son," the somber joy in her voice causes him to smile softly.

"Then why did he react like that? Why did he...why is he sick, Teacher?"

Two cups of tea are set on the table and Ed waits for his answer as he calmly blows on the drink, taking a sip of the warm, calming drink, "I believe it is a Reversed-Equivalent Exchange." Ed inhales, causing him to choke on the beverage, his watery eyes looking up at the woman, "You cannot take something without giving something in exchange, at least that is the way we have learned it to be. This boy performs an odd Reversed-Equivalent form of Alchemy in which he gives and takes away. I wonder if that boy has every asked for something in return?"

Thinking back to earlier, he realizes that Syn never does ask for anything in return. Yet, he reversed the Homunculus appearance from Wrath. Humonculi are reanimated remains of a human, living without a soul, purely existing. Did he have the ability to bring back someone's soul? Standing to his feet, he picks up his cup of tea and turns to make his way upstairs.

Pausing at the doorway of the kitchen, he glances over his shoulder, giving his teacher a soft smile, "Either way, I'm glad you are okay."

* * *

><p><strong><em>She ran as fast as her feet could take her. The shouts and curses thrown in her direction go ignored as she weaves through the crowd of people. The satchel gripped in her hand, holding the most precious thing in the world. Her name is cried out, her eyes quickly glanced over toward the sound. Having caught sight of her companions, she ducked around the corner and turned on heel, sinking into the shadows of an abandoned warehouse. With the coast clear, she nudged her companion, flashed a successful wink and leads them back to the orphanage. The building, nothing more than a broken down and decaying church, the only place to call home. She opened the satchel as the kids circled around her and she began handing out the stolen food, an apple kept only for her self.<em>**

**_xXxXxXx_**

**_"Sister!" the small boy that raced toward her, calling out her name, and the fear written on his face was all she needed to give him her attention, "Sister Sally...three...danger...alley...Crescent."_**

**_With those words in her head, she sprung into action, her legs pumping fast as adrenaline coursed through her veins. She tore down the grimy streets, determination darkening her sky-grey eyes. As she arrived to Crescent Street, she didn't bother to slow down, her fist cocked back before releasing the coiled tension, a solid blow connected against the temple of one of the three men surrounding the teenage red-head. Her anger and fury burned hot, her mind focused on protecting. She called out for the red-head to go back to the shelter, her attention pulled in two different directions. The red-head makes it to the end of the alley, but she never noticed the sudden gleam in the darkened alley. A crackle of thunder. Numbness seeps through her body, her knees buckled under the weight of her body. Rushed footsteps drifted away, curses filled the night air as her hand grips the middle of her sternum._**

**_"Syn!"_**

**_Ice-blue eyes. Worry. Fear. Tears. Her world turned black._**

**__**The molten silver eyes snap open, her body shooting upright in the bed, her lung gasping for air. Syn never notices the other presence in the room as her hand immediately snaps to her chest, palm resting against her sternum. A sudden chill landing on her shoulder causes her gaze to snap up, her wild horrified eyes meeting gold, full of concern. Her body tense, flinching at the contact. Truthfully, dying had been the easiest part of her life. There had been darker times. Harder times. Visions of torturous pain and endless agony.

"Are you alright?"

The soft concern tinges his voice, causing her eyes to widen, her tongue running along her chapped lips, "S-Sorry. Nightmare."

"You gave everyone a fright," Ed says calmly, his voice a whisper in the air, as if not to frighten or startle her. "Wrath is taking it the hardest."

"D-Did it work?" she questions, her breathing slowly easing.

A soft smile twitches on his lips, and she swallows the sudden lump in her throat at the sight, "Yes," His eyes switch, a serious glint appearing, "How did you give a Humonculus a soul?"

She gives him a soft smile, realizing his slight suspicions, "It isn't a matter of giving a person a soul, it is finding the soul buried within. During my time at Xing, I found a book that spoke of rising the dead, but them being incomplete. It spoke of the Homunculi, after they are first created. It speaks of a small, sliver of a soul remaining, giving it the ability to become reanimated. It is when Red Stones are introduced to the Homunculi that they become twisted and dark."

"I've never come across a book like that."

She nods, "I had to have special permission by the Emperor, and whoever this Van Hohenheim is, the man is incredibly intelligent." Glancing over, she quirks an eyebrow at the wide gold eyes and the slightly pale tone that creeps over his face, and she decides to change the subject, "You know, you really will make a good boyfriend."

"Shut up, you dumb ass," Ed sneers, his wide eyes shifting and gaining a teasing glint.

"Oh come on. We've known each other personally for what, three days maybe, and we only had met once before then? Yet, here you are, sitting vigil until I awaken. You'd be the perfect boyfriend."

A hot flush appears on his cheeks, and it causes Syn to snicker in response as a metallic finger points in her direction, "You, Drachman, are insufferable."

"Yet here you are."

"Ass."

"Oh? You've seen it? How is it looking lately?"

"You're really going to get it one of these days, Esare."

"Whatever you say, Short Stack."

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO SHORT A FLEA WOULD STEP ON HIM!"

* * *

><p>Downstairs, Izumi Curtis looks up at the familiar 'short' rant from the oldest Elric brother. A soft smile appears on her lips. She knew Syn's secret. She knows Syn will be able to give her student the will to live life and lead forward.<p>

She'd be good for him.

* * *

><p><strong>Ohhh! I hope you guys enjoyed reading this. This chapter gives you a small taste of what can happen if her abilities are used by the wrong people. The runic symbols are only HINTS toward the direction of people the Gate wants her to heal. It does not control her abilities, because she still has the right to pick and choose. This is something that will only grow as the story progresses.<strong>

**PLEASE REVIEW! I love reading your reviews. Come on people, I can see you're reading it. Just click on the box below that says 'Review this story', and give me a truthful response. If you don't like something about it, let me know, and I will work on making it better for you to read.**


	6. Chapter 6

**I want to thank my reviewers sooo much! I love reading every single one of your reviews. I want you to know that the issue between Wrath-Syn-Ed may have seemed quick, but this was more due to the idea that anger causes people to act out irrationally. Syn, already admitting to being hot-tempered, would have reacted to the sudden appearance of Wrath's persona that it caused her to lash out at the first person.**

**I do apologize for this chapter, but my reasons for doing this will be told at the end of the chapter.**

**Please Review!**

**No, I still don't own FMA...even though I really wish I did.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter<strong> **Six**  
><em> "Are you concerned for me only because I saved your life?"<em>

* * *

><p>Running a hand through his golden-brown hair, Alphonse Elric lets out a sigh as he makes his way through Central. Having already checked for his older brother at his apartment, he found out his brother was not home. Even General Mustang didn't know where he had gone after reporting back from his recent mission. Where would his brother have gone? He wasn't at the library, where he could usually be found with his nose stuck in a book. He wasn't sparing with Armstrong, Ed always saying it was the best way to stay in top shape, physically and Alchemically.<p>

Glancing around a street corner and a glimpse of soft blonde pulls his attention toward a familiar tall Lieutenant making his way toward the tavern. Curious, Al follows Havoc, who had paused at a passing street when a dark-haired boy, probably the same age as the youngest Elric. Watching as Havoc greets the boy with a lazy wave, who in turn gives the military officer a mocking salute, Al moves closer, curious about this boy.

"How's it going, Esare?" Havoc greets the boy with his charming smile.

The boy, who reminds Al of a Drachman, smirks up at Havoc, "I'm doing alright for the most part."

"Really? Boss said you were sick last week," Havoc comments lightly as the two start their way toward the tavern.

Esare, which is most likely his last name, snorts as his hand fishes into the pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and taking two from the package, "If I hear you, Roy or Short Stack ask me if I'm okay one more time, you three will answer to my fist."

"Alright, but I doubt the Chief and Boss are scared of you," Havoc replies playfully as the boy hands him one of the lit cigarettes. "Besides, you know why they keep asking."

"Yeah, yeah, one worries and one feels guilty," Al wonders if he should call out to Havoc, but he becomes distracted by the odd red smoke exhaled from both of the smokers, "I'm just sick of it."

"Why?" Havoc asks curiously, "General and FullMetal hardly give time to worry about a person they just met. You should feel honored, seeing as though you are a Drachman."

The boy sighs, rubbing the back of his neck, "I guess I've lived supporting only myself and the younger kids that I never really knew what it was like to have someone that cared enough to worry."

"Always the protector, never the protected," Havoc comments lazily, giving the boy a soft grin, "Look, kid, the General seems to have taken a liking to you, and Ed, well, I've only ever seen him this protective when it came to his brother, Al. You can't resent them for it."

Al feels his heart clench in his chest. General Mustang told him Ed's recent mission was a week ago. Did Ed have a new travel partner? Was Al so replaceable? What was so special about this _Drachman_ that Ed cared to even acknowledge him?

"Listen, Jean, I respect both of them, and that isn't easy for me to say. They just need to back off a bit. This protectiveness makes me uncomfortable."

"Why?"

The words leave Al's lips before he can stop himself, causing both of them to turn their gaze on him. Havoc's eyes light up in recognition, but the silver eyes of the dark-haired boy narrow in contemplation. Looking over the boy's odd appearance, Al feels a strange sensation fill him, causing his hazel eyes to darken, glaring at him. Surprise forms on Havoc's face, but Al's focus remains on the boy, who turns completely to face him, shoulder straightening and his chin raised, bring steel eyes directly at his own.

"I'm not sure why my matters are of interest to you," the dark-haired boy responds, his voice never wavering from the soft tone, and Al is surprised at the show of kindness, despite the face of defiance.

"My name is Alphonse Elric," Al ignores the flicker of recognition and the softening of the other boy's jaw, "and I want to know why my brother would care at all for someone who is so quick to dismiss it."

"Is it that? Or do you fear being replaced?" he asks in return and Al feels his body tense.

"Esare," Havoc starts.

A fingerless-gloved hand raises, causing Havoc to go quiet, but the steel gaze does not leave Al's, "To be honest, I am not in the mood for this. I have heard nothing but praise about Alphonse Elric and yet I feel as though I am being judged."

Al's hands clench into fists at the insinuation, "My brother always has a hard time trusting people. Hearing that he is honestly worried about you, and yet you care nothing for it gives me the right to question you."

The boy remains silent, and Al watches as the hardened eyes seem to darken even more before he turns to look at Havoc, "Jean, I am going to need a rain check on meeting up with you and the others."

As the boy turns and wanders away, Al opens his mouth to respond, but a hand clasps firmly on his shoulder, Havoc shaking his head in response. Inwardly growling, Al watches the boy, who stops at the intersection of the next street, only a few yard away from them. The dark-haired boy turns around and Al tenses, swallowing the lump in his throat as he stares into the blank stare.

"Mustang is the person worried about me, Alphonse Elric. It is your brother that feels he should be guilty, not me."

Those are the last words said between Al and the strange boy before he turns around the corner and disappears from view. Feeling Havoc pull him toward the tavern, Al finds his thoughts turning south. Why would Ed feel guilty? Why did he react that way toward the boy? Following Havoc into the tavern, he hears shouts of greeting toward the officer, before the tall blonde steps aside, motion toward him. Hazel eyes meet gold and Al feels his chest grow warm as a glint of pure joy fills the golden stare.

"Al!"

Caught in the familial embrace, a strange feeling causes his heart to sink as he is greeted with claps on the shoulder, but he never releases his hold on his brother. Inhaling the familiar scent of whiskey, leather and oil, Al's fingers clench the cloth against his brother's back. This wasn't the type of greeting given to someone replaced. This wasn't the type of greeting given to anyone that isn't family.

Had he been wrong in his words?

He feels Ed pull him toward the bar, the two brother sitting side-by-side as the bartender fills the scotch glasses with Amestrian whiskey, "Hiya, Ed. Where's the friend of your's that drinks that Xingese crap?"

"Why do you ask?" Al hears his brother respond, a strange glint appearing in the gold eyes.

"Well, I did order an three cases to keep in stock for the kid. He's been here every night since you two came back into town," the bartender responds.

Al glances up from his glass as he feels Havoc step up to the bar, ordering himself the house ale, "Oh, Boss, I crossed paths with our lovely Drachman, but he declined the invite for tonight's festivities."

Ed snorts into his drink, a darkened glint taking over his eyes, "Let me guess, because I agreed to come out with you guys?"

"No. He respectfully requested a rain check and walked off," Havoc shrugs and Al is thankful that the Lieutenant didn't tell his brother everything that occurred moments before. "I'm going to head over to our table. You two catch up, and all that."

Once Havoc wanders off, Al glances at his brother, "Who are you guys talking about?"

"Syn Esare," Ed's dark features softened, "Met him about three weeks ago on the train here. Weird kid. Always talking about hope for a better and brighter future. I think you'd like him, he kind of reminds me of you in some ways, but he has his moments where it feels like he's different."

Al swallows his whiskey, cringing at the burning sensation left behind, "I've never seen you become friends with someone so quickly."

Ed shrugs, smirking into his glass, "He's a bit of an asshole at times. He insists on calling me Short Stack, despite the fact that he is shorter than me."

"Hypocritical?" Al questions, smiling softly at the soft chuckle in response.

"No. He says he's not short, but fun-sized," Al snorts at the thought, but seeing the somber glaze pull over golden eyes again causes him to stop, "I'm not supposed to talk about it in public, but Bastard had me escort him on a mission of importance."

"So, a three day mission and all of the sudden you're the best of friends?" Al questions, the words leaving his lips harsher than he intended.

Ed looks over at Al and something must have shown on his face, because Ed's hands gripped his shoulder, "Al...what did you do? The questions you're asking tells me that this is more than just curiosity. What did you say?"

Al shrugs off his brother's grip, "I saw Havoc talking to that Drachman boy and I heard the way he was dismissing your friendship to Havoc, saying that it made him uncomfortable."

"What did you _do_, Al?"

"Why? Why does he suddenly matter more than me? I came to see you, I've been looking for you all day, and you haven't even asked how I am," Al snaps out, both brothers glaring at one another, "You haven't asked at all about Auntie, or Winry. Why is that _Drachman freak_ suddenly more important that everyone else?"

Ed's eyes narrow darkly, "He's not a freak, Al."

"Here we go, you defending him!"

Neither brother notice how silent the tavern has become, both brothers now standing from the seats, and the infamous sibling argument on display for everyone to see, "Enough, Al. You don't _know_ anything about him."

"That's because I haven't heard from you in almost a month! Too busy running around Amestris to even call your own family! Why would you even care about that boy anyway!"

The fight seems to leave both of the brothers, and Ed is the first to shake his head, "You know I love you, Al. Nothing, not a single person, can replace you."

"Not even that freak?"

Ed nods stiffly, "Not even the freak."

Al embraces his brother once more, apologizing for his harsh words. Closing his eyes, Al feels truly at home with his brother around. A slow, almost mocking, clap pierces the silence of the tavern, causing the brothers to pull back and glare in the direction. Feeling Ed tense, Al glares at the bored looking Drachman, who leans against the doorway of the tavern entrance.

"Syn-" Ed starts off, taking a step toward the boy.

A strange sensation coils inside both of the brothers as a cynical laugh leaves the boy's lips, silver eyes staring blankly at them as the boy waves dismissively toward Ed, "Oh no, please, I'm interested on who this freak is? See, I only came to apologize to Alphonse Elric, because I felt as though I should try to apologize and explain the situation, but this," Al hears his brother swallow as Syn motions over them, "This is just delightful."

"Syn, I didn't mean-"

"Shut it, Edward," the sharp response cuts of the eldest of two brothers, steel gaze glaring in response, "I am not ignorant, nor deaf, nor blind. Alphonse," Al tenses, shrinking back from the glare, "Never, in my _entire_ life have I met a person as loyal, loving and caring as your brother is to you. I don't know what lead you to believe I was meant to replace you, but I am here to ease your fear."

"W-What?" Ed questions, seeing the dark-haired boy step back.

"Despite how much of a _freak_," Al swallows the sudden lump in his throat as something flickers through the steel eyes, "I may be, I would never come between someone's family."

Without giving either brother a chance to respond, Syn turns and exits to the tavern. Almost instantly, Ed snaps into action, racing out of the tavern, Al hot on his heels, but after breaking into the cool night of Central, neither of them catches sight of the boy. Seeing the look on his brother's face, Al places a tentative hand on Ed's shoulder.

"I-I'm sorry, Brother. I had been upset."

Ed shakes off his brother's grip, "Why would you think I would replace you?"

"The way you spoke of him, I-I thought he had replaced me. I've never seen you so concerned with someone you just met," Al explains, tearing up at the thought of disappointing his brother.

"He healed Teacher," It felt as though all the air in Al's lungs caught in his throat, his hazel eyes widening significantly, "and he somehow reverted Wrath's Homunulus appearance."

"W-What? How?"

Ed's sorrowful gold eyes turn on his little brother, "Teacher said it was a version of Reverse-Equivalence. He takes the ailments of someone else, fixes whatever is wrong with them, but those ailments can't just disappear, so he takes them within himself," The sudden guilt burns within Al's heart, his throat tightening as tears begin to prickle against the back of his eyes, "I didn't know at the time, how he had healed Teacher, and when he fixed Wrath, he took all of that boy's anger and hatred into himself. I thought he had been hurt and when I went to check on him, he attacked me. I didn't know what happened until I hit him and he spat blood."

"I don't get it," Al responds.

"Al! Syn fixed Teacher, but in order to due so, he had to- remove his own," Al nods in understand, and his brother continues, "Then, I punched him with my _right_ arm in the stomach. Do you know what he said when I asked why he healed them?" Al glances at his brother, feeling his brother's own infliction, "He said he did it because he had the ability to do so. When I tried to thank him, he said I never have to thank him, that he doesn't help people for appreciation or respect. Al, that kid you called a freak risks his body to heal people, just because he feels the need to, and not once does he ask for anything in return."

"I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"Come on. We need to go find him," Ed insists, leading his brother down the street.

Neither of them notice the shadow stepping out of the nearby alley.

* * *

><p>A sigh sounds as Syn silently enters the Hughes' Residence, her hardened gaze growing somber. It isn't the first time she has heard the word freak. Nor is it the first time she has watched a person of acquaintance dismiss their relationship so easily. It isn't the first time a person considered her a friend and betrays her when she turns around. She should have known gaining an easy friendship had been just that. Too easy.<p>

"Synthia?" She glances up to see Maes sitting at the kitchen table, a few files from work splayed out in front of him, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she replies softly as she moves forward and begins making herself a mug of coffee.

"That's what worries me. This entire week, you have been _just_ fine. Is something bothering you?"

She takes the seat across from him, looking into the concerned green eyes behind the silver-framed glasses, "Can I ask you a serious question?" Maes nods, closing the files and setting them aside, giving her his full attention, "Are you concerned for me only because I saved your life?"

"Of course not, Synthia. Why would you ask such a thing?" he asks, seriously worried about the deep sorrow etched on her usually calm facial features.

"I have come to the conclusion that Edward feels obligated to call me a friend because I healed Mrs. Curtis," she ignores the way Maes's eyes widen, "and I have a feeling Mustang only respects me due to fixing his eye."

When a calloused hand covers her own hand, she refuses to turn her gaze up from her mug of coffee as Maes speaks, "You saved my life and I will never be able to thank you enough. That may be true, but that is not why I care for you. Synthia, I know you have dealt with a lot in your old life, and while I have never asked, I am surprised and humbled. Despite everything that has happened to you, you continue to see the good in people. You strive to fix things, even though you don't need to. You have more courage and love in your heart than in any other person I have come across."

"You ask if I am concerned because you saved my life, and my answer is no. I am concerned because I love you," Maes did not expect the silver eyes to prickle a soft red, nor the tears that welled along her eyelids, "Synthia Esare, you are everything I could have ever wanted in a sister. Everything and more. Blood or not, you are an important member of this family. Elicia adores everything about you and I couldn't think of a better role model except her mother. Gracia has told me on more than one occasion she feels you are more of a daughter to her than a sister-in-law. Synthia, we _love_ you."

Maes hadn't been expecting the girl before him to break down, her sobs causing his heart to clench. It didn't seem right for her to be so sad. Standing from his chair, he moves around the table and kneels next to her chair. Without asking for permission, he wraps the petite girl in his arms, his heart breaking when he feels her tense. Has no one shown this girl any affection?

Why did he have to care? Syn couldn't stop the heartbreaking sobs that tore from her lips. When was the last time someone held her? The memory that flickers through her mind forces her sobs to grow more fierce, her hands clenching into his shirt. Always the protector, never the protected. The children and fellow teens at the orphanage had only ever respected her, viewing her to lead their way through life.

"I'm so sorry."

The words leave her lips, muffled between her cries. She left them. Unprotected.

"I'm so sorry."

She died protecting a girl from a horrible fate.

"God, I'm so sorry."

Was it too much to ask for a friend?

"I'm so sorry."

She felt something break deep within her mind and in the hollow of her chest, her sobs growing silent, but she couldn't stop the tears.

Why was she always used?

Why her?

A faint ringing of a telephone causes her to pull away from the embrace. Embarrassed, she looks away from Maes's piercing gaze before the older man stands up and makes his way to the phone.

"Hughes' Residence, this is Maes. Oh? May I ask who is calling? Corin?" Syn snaps to attention, "Just a moment."

Syn doesn't give him a chance to respond as she moves toward him, snatching the phone from his hand, "Corin?"

"Syn! I need you here as soon as possible," a small voice pleads into the phone.

"Is everything alright?" Hearing faint sobs, Syn shakes her head, "Alright. I'll be there as soon as possible. Whatever it is, hang in there."

She slams the phone back onto the receiver, instantly racing to her room. Yanking her travel case out from under the bed, she unlatches it before moving toward the closet. Tossing clothes into the open case, she ignores the appearance of Maes in the doorway. Was everyone okay? Why would Corin of all people be calling her?

"Is something wrong?"

"Corin lives in one of the major tribes in Creta," she pays no mind to the sudden tension in Maes's shoulder, both of them knowing Creta isn't the safest country to travel in, "During my travels, I stayed in the village where their tribe resides and I fear something bad must have happened."

"You're letting them use your abilities?"

She rounds on Maes, glaring up at him, "Corin is an eight-year-old girl calling me in the middle of the night! I don't care if I have to heal the entire tribe, I will not allow her to become an orphan!"

Maes's gaze soften and before she can react, she is once again in his embrace, "If it is what you want, than I support you. Don't strain yourself." She blinks up at him in surprise as he pushes her back slightly, "Now, let's go get you a ticket."

* * *

><p><strong>I know a lot of people are going to be upset that I made Al react in an uncharacteristic fashion, but think about it. Al is still getting his memories back and he feels out of place at the knowledge of his brother traveling with someone else when he can only remember being the only person constantly traveling with his brother. Because of his regression in mental-age, and due to his time as a suit of armor, he never had the experiences most teens go through. I'm trying to incorporate Al growing more into maturity through emotional exposure to several different types of emotions.<strong>

**I will accept absolutely no flames for this idea because in real life, to grow from a state of immaturity and into maturity, you have to go through the reality of life. There will be jealousy, anger, hate, sorrow, joy, all of it. I want to show the readers how Al deals with his whirlwind of emotions.**

**Ed's reactions should be in character. He does feel responsible for what happened in Dublith, and reacted in surprised-anger, and not wanting to hurt his brother's already-hurt feelings, he said what Al wanted to hear.**

**I'm sorry for making either of them seem like the bad guy, but with everything they have ever dealt with after the Taboo, they never had the chance to live normal lives. I am exposing them both to things teenagers go through every single day.**

**I really hope I don't have to explain the reasons behind Syn's breakdown.**


	7. Chapter 7

**I LOVED writing this chapter! This chapter goes into only a little more detail about Syn's years of travel.**

**This also introduces a new OC, George (Black Heart), who is a totally awesome- well you have to read to find out. I would LOVE to say I own George, but alas, that privilege is with my dear friend: Hitori-chan! -grins-**

**Don't forget to review. I give cookies to my faithful reviewers. **

**Please Review!**

**No, I still don't own FMA...even though I really wish I did.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Seven<strong>  
><em>"It is because of who you are, not what you are labeled"<em>

* * *

><p>The train ride had felt as though it took longer than it should have. Syn hated the worry in her mind, and the fear in her heart. When the train pulled into the village of Corinthia, it didn't take her long to race off the platform and through the dirt paths of the village. Nothing slowed her down as she pushes herself quickly up the hill, onto the front porch of an elegant, but quaint, house. Bursting through the door, she hears a soft cry from upstairs and trudges up the two flights.<p>

The small blonde girl huddled next to the bed catches her sight first, deep blue eyes blinking back tears. The man lying on the bed, gasping for breath, and face more pale than her own causes her to race over to the bed. Her left hand clenches shut, the familiar warmth forming in her palm, and she reaches out to place it on the man's chest. A hand catches her wrist in a firm grasp, forcing her hand to stop in movement.

"Crux, I can heal you, but you need to let go," Syn murmurs, trying to force her raging pulse down to normal.

The light brown eyes stare up at her weakly, "M-My wife. Dryden's men attacked one of the allied villages and she was taken."

"Crux, you need to let me go so I can fix it," Syn demands, swallowing the lump in her throat.

"Poison, child. If I allow you to heal me, my wife will face a terrible fate. Please, let me go and save my wife," the man pleads, his eyes watering at the thought of his wife.

The fight leaves her body and she drops into the chair next to the bed, pulling the small blonde girl onto her lap. With Corin in her arms, the two remain vigil as the man passes into the afterlife. The child crying in her arms causes her to tighten her arms around the small frame, Syn's fingers running through bouncy blonde curls.

"Corin. I need you to go to someone you can trust," Syn whispers, pressing a kiss to the girl's forehead. As Corin sits up, Syn can't stop herself from wiping away the tears streaking the small girl's face, "I need to know you are safe."

"A-Are you going to save Mama?" Corin's small voice cracks between her words.

"Corin, I promise you, I will do everything in my power to bring your mother home."

Within two hours, Syn tosses the last shove-full of soil over the fresh grave. Everyone in the village arrived to pay their respects to the village leader, and Syn watches calmly as Corin gives her one last glance over her shoulder before following one of the father's friends away from the village. It is rare that Syn's abilities are refused, but the reason is clear and at the forefront of her mind.

Carlya.

Making it back to Crux's house, she shudders inwardly at the silence before moving to the phone. Her fingers twitch as they move to dial the familiar number. Hearing someone pick up, she gives them the name of the person she is seeking and is asked to hold.

"This is Paul."

"Paul, it's Syn."

"Syn! It's been awhile since I've heard from you. What can I do for you?"

"I need my _special_ order to be sent to Corinthia."

"Any specific person?"

"You know of who I am requesting. I need my package delivered to the village within four hours."

"For you, I'll have it there in three."

She doesn't say anything as she hangs up the phone. Moving through the house, she gathers her travel case and snaps it open. Stripping out of her normal Drachman attire, she pulls on an outfit she acquired during her time training in Xing. Pulling on the loose-fitting, but not baggy, black pants, she trades her combat boots in for a pair of flat cloth slippers. She takes the time to wrap her breasts, binding them firmly against her body before she slips on the tight-fitting, long-sleeved black shirt.

She wasn't sure how long it had taken for her to change into the outfit, but her sensitive senses catch the slightest creek, "You're getting sloppy."

"Like there's any sneaking up on you of all people," the sharp-witted remark had been instantaneous.

Turning to her new companion, Syn stares at the ebony-haired girl in front of her. The elegant, and intricate braiding of her hair allowed for her round face to be free of any lingering hair. Deep green eyes stare at her in question as a familiar case is handed to her, but Syn turns around and sets the case on the bed. Snapping the case open, Syn's silver eyes gaze down at the twin blades set against the cloth of the case's interior, the blades crossing each other. Two solid-black gauntlets and a handful of throwing knives rest within the case around the two short swords.

"What's going on, Syn? You never call for me unless there's an emergency, and the last time you did, it was when we had to smuggle Van into Xing," the curt tone does not offend Syn, having long since grown accustom to it.

"There was an attack on an allied village by Dryden's men. Crux had been poisoned and Carlya has been taken as a war prize," she hears the slightest gasp come from her companion, but pays no mind as she slides on the gauntlets, "Corin is staying with a friend of Crux, and I promised to save Carlya before he died."

"I take it you're going to kill Dryden once and for all," Syn ignores the open stare as she slides two of the small throwing knives into the hidden compartments of her gauntlets.

Syn adjusts the sheaths along her back, the hilt of one sword resting against the back of her right shoulder, the other hilt pressing against the left side of her lower back, stopping just above her hip, "Damn right. I'm going to make that man wish he had never crossed me."

"I want to help," Syn finally glances up to her companion, quirking her pierced eyebrow at the other girl as she picks up the cloth that had been hidden beneath the weapons. "Come on, Syn. It will be just like the time we smuggle one of Dryden's mistresses out of his house."

Wrapping the cloth around her hips, Syn uses it as a holster for the remaining throwing knives, "Alright. We get in, you get Carlya out, and I will watch your back."

Unlike most people she has come across, Syn had yet to meet anyone like the girl in front of her. Georgia Hart, otherwise known as George, the "Black Heart", is a thief as dark as her name. Unlike others, Syn had taken a liking to George, knowing the girl didn't just steal to gain riches. She smuggled goods in and out of Amestris to help anyone in need. She broken into the homes of the _black market_ rich, taking the previous stolen jewels and returning them to their owners. She did everything she could to help those in need.

"This is going to be fun."

Hours passed, and Syn finds herself leading George through the shadows of the mansion. With her back pressed against the wall, Syn peers around the corner to see the back of one of Dryden's men. Motioning for George to wait, the silver-eyed girl toes her way toward the man, wrapping her arm around his throat and pulling back tightly, restricting the yell that had started to leave the man's lips.

"Carlya, where is she," Syn hisses in a hushed voice in the man's ear. "If you don't tell me, I might spare your life."

"Dryden's chambers."

Syn says nothing in response, her other hand quickly grabbing the man's jaw and with a quick jerk of the arm, a sickening crack echoes in the hall. Dropping the new corpse without pause, she gives George a hand signal and the two girls move swiftly through the mansion. Remembering the infamous chambers from their last _visit_, Syn presses her ear to the door, hearing only muffled sobs coming from the room. Giving her green-eyed companion a curt nod, the two girls enter the chamber, instantly catching the wide relief filling the deep blue eyes of the woman tied to the bed. Swallowing the bile from her throat, Syn moves through the room, tossing the torn dress over to George, who had untied the blonde from the bed. As the cloth-gag is removed from her lips, George immediately claps a hand over the lips as they part to speak, the thief allowing her eyes to soften as she places her index finger against her own lips.

"George, get her out," Syn whispers faintly.

"W-what about you?" the blonde woman pleads, trying to keep her voice down.

Syn glances over at the woman, "Carlya, you have an eight-year-old daughter waiting for your return. I'm sure by know someone has noticed the body of one of Dryden's men and I will of course cause a distraction. George, take her to Corin and don't leave until I return."

She knew George never appreciates being ordered around, but at the same time, George carries a sense of respect for Syn. Why that is? Syn has yet to figure out, but Syn catches George's nod of agreement and waits as the thief leads Carlya toward the balcony. Moving back into the shadows of the halls, Syn creeps her way through the mansion. Removing one of her throwing knives, she clenches it into her hand as she swiftly appears behind one man, her empty hand clamping over his mouth before she drags the blade across the length of his neck. Dropping him without paying any mind, she slinks further through the mansion.

"Hey!"

A familiar crackle of thunder breaks the silence, and quickly Syn drops to one knee, dodging the bullet, before pushing off and lunging at the next man. Her blade sinking deep into the man's side, and it doesn't stop her other arm, hooking around the extended arm. Ducking beneath the gun-holding arm, Syn ignores the man's hiss of pain as she rears her left arm back and slams it into the extended elbow. She smirks, eyes darkening to hard steel as the slowly dying man howls in pain, the top of his radial bone piercing through his flesh.

Knowing that the man's cry of pain signaled her presence, she wastes no time in racing deeper, waiting for the man to show his face. She loses count on how much blood is spilled. She loses counts on how many bodies she leaves lying in the halls of the mansion. To be honest, she cares nothing of these men. Coming out of the mansion, her sights land on the dark, handsome man standing in the middle of the garden.

"It's been a long time since I've had to deal with you and that pathetic thief," Dryden comments lazily.

A snarl appears on her lips, and she wastes no time in rushing toward him. She says nothing, as she feels he is not worthy to speak to, as the man brandishes a sword of his own. Unlike Amestris where guns are more common, Creta has always favored bladed weapons over anything else. The metal of both blades connect in a sharp ringing noise, the blade in Syn's right hand pressing firmly against his. Dropping to her knee, she uses the blade in her left hand -the hilt grasped in an opposite fashion than most sword-fighters- and twists, the edge of her blade catching the cloth of his shirt as the other edge presses against the length of her forearm. Allowing her body to follow the spin of her body, her body shifts from kneeling and putting all of her weight on her left leg, she snaps a vicious spin kick toward the man.

She isn't sure how long she fights the man. Her body might be tiring, but her anger and determination forces her to continue trading blows. The small shallow cuts along her stomach, upper arms and thighs gives a soft tingle along her nerves, forcing her body to pump a heavy dose of adrenaline through her veins. When both of her swords, and his, are out of reach, she lunges toward the man, never expecting a familiar glint of gunmetal grey. A searing pain follows a crackle of thunder, but her body continues toward him as a second crackle breaks through the air. Grinding her teeth together, she snaps out another kick, the gun forcefully thrown across the way and she wastes no time in slamming the flat of her palm against his shoulder, her foot swiping out and connecting with the back of his knees. The moment his knees hit the ground, his back to her, she brandishes one of her hidden knives and buries it to the hilt between the bones of his clavicle, sinking it and severing the major jugular artery.

Releasing the cooling corpse, Syn spits on the body as she moves to collect her twin swords. A sudden wave of dizziness forces her to her knees, the adrenaline disappearing from her body, causing the pain to become known.

* * *

><p>"I'm really sorry, Ed."<p>

Ed glances up at the sound of his brother's voice. He knew Al had only meant to protect him, but he had never expected Syn just to disappear completely. Even Mustang didn't have a clue. A week, on the verge of two, and there has been no sign of Syn Esare. Ed wasn't sure why Maes seemed worried, working day and night to pick up on the smallest clue of the Drachman's whereabouts.

"It's fine, Al. When Syn gets back you can apologize to him instead of me," Ed replies, his voice carrying a weary tone. "I just hope he's okay."

* * *

><p>She's not normally a smoker. At least, none of that Amestrian crap. The Xingese stuff isn't so bad. The rich cinnamon taste trickles along the taste buds of Georgia Hart. She had only been all to thankful that the hysterical blonde woman had been reunited with her daughter and the two were <em>finally<em> asleep. She, herself, didn't have any family. Probably one of the reasons why the thief had managed to forge a friendship with Syn.

_**Green eyes slowly slide open, wondering where she was. The memories of being shot and left behind filter to her mind. She was going to kill Paul for giving her a mission with other people. Not that they failed, but she didn't trust anyone. She might be a thief, but she still carried a sense of honor, no matter how morbid it may be.**_

_**"Oh, good," A soft voice causes the green eyes to snap toward the sound, having not felt the presence of someone else in the room, "I was afraid you'd never wake up."**_

_**"I was dying," she had said as she stares into the soft silver eyes that glance up from a book, "I know I was dying."**_

_**"Yes, well, now you're not. What's your name?"**_

_**"George."**_

_**"I'm Syn. So, who managed to catch the Black Heart off her guard?"**_

**_Green eyes widen in shock, "How did you know?"_**

**_"When I healed you, I took a part of you inside of me for a moment. Your sorrow was...very strong, and it is a shame for someone with your talents to go through life, almost begging for death," George couldn't believe this girl, "Besides, I need your expertise."_**

**_xXxXxXx_**

**_"I never thanked you," George glances over at the girl who begins to snip away at her beautiful black hair with a pair of scissors, "All those years ago. I never understood why someone with your gifts would help save a thief like me."_**

**_"It is because of who you are, not what you are labeled," George watches the last of the other girl's long curls fall to the floor, "and you never have to thank me George. I'm sure, by now, you realize I, too, walk along the fine line between right and wrong."_**

**_"If you ever need anything, anything at all, give Paul a call and I'll be there as fast as possible," George insists, and reaches out slowly, almost in fear, before placing her hand over her shoulder, "and I am sorry for what has happened."_**

**_"It doesn't matter. What's done is now in the past. We move forward," Syn's silver eyes stare up at her from behind bangs of black, "George, if you ever need help, you know where to find me."_**

**_xXxXxXx_**

**_"Syn," George hisses out, catching sight of the silver-eyed girl in disguise, who turns and flashes her a soft smile, "Here."_**

**_Syn glances down at the package handed to her and lets out a giggle, looking back up at her always-quiet friend, "Xingese cigarettes, I can't thank you enough. These will last me a couple months at most. You are certainly the most thoughtful of my few friends."_**

**_Friend? George says nothing, only nodding in return. Something tells her that Syn caught the message in her eyes. George has never been much of a talker, most of her work relying on eye-contact and hand signals. Shoving her hands into the pockets of her black leather duster -Drachman made and a gift from her new friend- George watches as Syn gives her one last wave before stepping onto the train._**

The sound of a crash from the front of the house causes George to snap out of her thoughts, immediately moving to her feet. Catching sight of a familiar dark-haired Drachman lying on the floor, a pool of crimson forming beneath her, she breaks into action. Struggling with the dead weight, George sets her upstairs and gathers a medical kit. Washing her hands, George turns back and sighs before getting to work on removing the bullet lodged in her friend's body.

This was going to be a long night


	8. Chapter 8

**Yay! I am super happy about my recent reviews. Thank you soo much. It's because of you guys that I keep writing so much! Keep up the awesome reviews for me. This chapter is slightly a filler, and kind of short, but it needs to be in place for the chapter that will follow. This chapter is dedicated to Hitori-chan! I just love your reviews! **

**I OWN FMA! YES, I OWN IT. -wakes up- aww man!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Eight<br>**_"You're bleeding...again," -George_

* * *

><p>"What do you mean, no?" Ed's voice snaps viciously at the man before him.<p>

If it wasn't for the desk between them, and Ed's control, the blonde Alchemist would alread be across the table, his right fist jammed into the Bastard's jaw. Superior officer or not. This was ridiculous. Why has Mustang done nothing?

"We can't send a search party after a kid, FullMetal. With the polls having closed last night, tonight will be the night the new Führer is to be appointed," Mustang replies, his calm voice and linked fingers pissing Ed off even more.

The palm of Ed's flesh hand smacks against the table, his golden eyes burning bright with fury, "That _kid_ fixed that fucking eye of your's you Bastard! Yet you are worried about your image and if you are going to be appointed Führer? That's low, even for you."

"It was upon the agreement that I become Führer that he healed my eyes, FullMetal. Besides, the Chief-Commander has issued all soldiers and State Alchemist currently in Central cannot leave until the new Führer gains his office. I literally _can't _send a search party," Mustang responds, his onyx eyes darkening at his subordinate's words.

"HE'S BEEN GONE A MONTH! A month, Mustang! This isn't just some random boy!" Ed lashs out, his anger causing his shoulders to shake.

"I know how long Syn has been gone, but unless I gain the office of Führer, I can't send a search party for one kid. Edward, you must understand, while Syn may be a friend, everyone else will see him as nothing more than a Drachman civilian," Mustang speaks calmly, trying to get Ed's anger to disipate.

Ed's brow furrows, "You mean, once you are in office, I can go find him myself?" Mustang nods curtly in return, and Ed pushes himself from the desk, "Fine. I hope you know, if you don't get elected for the position, I'm turning in my reignation and looking for him regardless."

"I wouldn't expect anything less from you, FullMetal," Mustang states, but even as it is meant as a tease, his onyx eyes don't glint with the usual amusement.

Ed turns on heel and stomps from the office, the door slamming behind his disappearing form with a loud bang. The golden-haired Alchemist says nothing to Hawkeye or the others as he stalks out of the entire room, heading for the exit of Central Command. Familiar footsteps catch his ears, rushing to catch up with him.

"Nii-san!"

Ed doesn't stop, the anger still hot through his veins, and once he notices his feet had taken him to the practice fields, he turns his gaze on his younger brother. Whatever expression that was written on his face, Al seemed to understand quickly as he ducks under the punch aimed for him, his own foot lashing out.

* * *

><p>The sun began to dip beneath the Western Horizon, Dusk finally falling over the city of Central. Citizens filed within the Square, every inch of the city block taken by a standing audience. Before the citizens, standing at attention, Amestrian Soldiers of various rankings stand in perfect formation. The large stage in front of the entire crowd held the current Chief-Commander, who was currently making a long speech, leading up to the unvieling of the newly appointed Führer.<p>

Sharp, calculating green eyes gaze down at the crowd as George stood to the left of Syn, her own silver gaze moving over the crowd. Neither one moved, not since they arrived to their spot on the roof, the shadows casted by a larger building behind them leaving them unseen. It had been a while since George had been in Central and she realized not one thing has changed.

"If they are trusted acquaintances," George's curt tone begins, her eyes never moving from the crowd below, "then why have you not revealed yourself to them?"

"Well, due to our recent," Syn glances over at George from the corner of her eye, "_excursion_, my predicted time of return fell rather short than the obvious outcome."

_"May I present the new Führer, Brigadier General Roy Mustang!"_

"Is this a good thing, or can we kill him now?" George asks, watching as a handsome ebony-haired man makes his way to the podium, cheers, whistles and claps filling the air.

"Let's let him prove himself, first," Syn says, pausing as she watches the Flame Alchemist address the crowd, "He pledged to use his office to make a better future for the people of Amestris, and I can only hope he does not stray from his path."

The two girls tense, both of their gaze snapping down to an odd figure in the crowd. A familiar crackle breaks through the air, and George feels her friend tense as the new Führer drops to the ground. The crowd seems to immediately respond, chaotically running to get away from the scene, soldiers looking around for the shooter.

"George," Green eyes snap to Syn, who immediately points out the assassin, "He's heading over to the Warehouse District. Head him off, render him unconscious and hand him over to the authorities."

"Where do you think you're going?" George asks as she turns away from the scene below.

"It's not important right now. George, I need you to get a discription of the guy and send it to Paul, see if his contacts can match him with any Assassin Guild," George nods, realizing where her friend is going with this, "Go! I'm going to follow Hawkeye's car."

Both of the girls move to the middle of the roof, facing the opposite direction, "Syn," George glances over at her friend as she stretches her arms over her head, "Can you _try_ to not do anything stupid?"

Syn grants the green-eyed thief a smirk before breaking into a sprint, aiming straight for the edge of the roof. George shakes her head as she watches her friend leap, flip and swing her way across rooftops. Once Syn's figure disappears around the shadow of one building, George cracks her knuckles before performing the same manuveres to make her way toward the Warehouse District.

George knew people were chasing down the assassin. She knew there to be three of them. Counting the distance between the oldest of three men, George realized they would never catch the assassin in time. Speeding up, she quickly turned left, leaping over the distance between the two buildings. Flipping herself sideways, she watches as the ground of the alley appears in her sights, immediately turning her body before landing with practiced ease. She knew the assassin spotted her, but was unable to slow down. Cocking back her fist, she snapped it forward, the blow connecting with the man's temple, rendering him unconscious.

"What the hell?"

George ignores the three people that arrive on the scene as she lays the assassin on his back. Male. Tan. Brown hair. Brown eyes. A faint scar on the corner of his lips. Hands calloused. A runner's build.

"Miss?"

George finally looks up from the assassin. One of the three men was dressed in military blues. The other two were younger, most likely her age, and seem to carry some familiar features though their hair and eye coloring differ greatly. They comfort around the three tells her they know each other, on a familiar level.

George stands up and motions toward the assassin, "I thought it would be prudent to help capture the man that tried to assassinate the new Führer."

"How did you beat us here?" the shortest of the three demands, his gold eyes reminding George of someone she had once had the pleasure of meeting.

"I'm quick on my feet and was not among the crowd," she states in a bored tone.

"Thank you," the oldest of the three says, green eyes staring at her from behind silver-framed glasses.

She nods curtly, "Well, I'll leave him to you since you seem to be a high ranking officer."

Turning around, she slides her hands into the pockets of her duster jacket and makes for the exit of the alley, "Where are you going?"

"I have to see a friend about a _dog_," George responds, the slightest hint of sarcasm in her tone as she waves lazily to the three.

Knowing the urgency of the situation, George manages to make her way to the hospital, already catching sight of a familiar figure standing on the roof of an adjacent building. Using the fire escapes along the edge of the building, George climbs them quickly before making her way to stand next to the other girl.

"I thought you would be inside already," George whispers, noticing Syn's eyes were closed.

Syn's eyes snap open, her silver gaze hardened in a manner George has only seen a few times. Having known Syn for a long time, George had come to respect the girl's sage advice and her love of life. The thief had never once believed she be able to forge a bond with someone that wasn't strictly business, yet something about the silver-eyed enigma made George want to be better. Like herself, Syn walked the fine line of right and wrong. Both of them do things that need to be done, whether it is morally correct.

Before George can react, Syn steps back a few paces before breaking into a sprint, throwing herself across the empty air between the building they were on and the hospital. George was not fearful of her friend's actions. Both were well practiced in this art. The thief watches as her friend manages to catch the ledge of a window before pulling herself to a uncomfortable crouch along the window sil. The minutes that follow, George watches her friend manipulate the latch to the window before the enigma manages to slide it open and slip into the room silently.

George shakes her head. Waiting for her moment to enter. From her view point, she sees a silver glow fill the room before a loud crash sounds from the room, quickly followed by the familiar crackle of a gunshot. Not wasting any time, George paces back before sprinting toward the edge of the building. Easily catching the window sil, George flips herself into the room and lands behind Syn, catching the girl as her knees buckle. Taking the time to look around the room, she notes the same three men from the alley standing in the doorway. All three of them have a look of pure shock on their faces. Glancing over at the hospital bed, George realizes the new Führer carried no signs of being shot.

Pulling her gaze down to the girl in her arms, she sighs, "How surprisingly stupid of you."

"Stupid?" George stares into the defensive gold eyes of the shortest male, "He just saved the life of the new Führer."

George blinks, staring blankly at the three men, "I'm aware of what he did," She was going to have to get used to refering to Syn as a boy, "Regardless, Syn's actions are counterproductive to our current situation."

"Tell me how you really feel," a soft groan from next to her pulls her attention to the half-lidded silver eyes.

George glares down at her friend, "Your actions are reckless."

"You worry too much," Syn argues.

"One of us has to," George snaps.

"Tell me something I don't know."

George fights back the urge to growl at the half-conscious girl, "You're bleeding..._again_."

George's blank face causes Syn to start laughing, hisses leaving her lips after each chuckle. Her friend's discomfort causes her to not realize the sudden presence standing right next to them, George's shoulders tensing as she stares up at the military officer. Waiting for any move that gives her a right to lash out.

She doesn't expect the man to drop to his knees, his hand gently cupping Syn's cheek, who shakingly turns her head in his direction. Who was this man? George had never known Syn allowing someone to touch her. The man's gentle and sorrowful gaze shifts when Syn flashes him a tired, but not forced, grin.

"It's been awhile," Syn says, her body shaking from shock.

The man says nothing, pulling her from George's grasp and wrapping her in an embrace. George feels her own body tense, her green eyes darkening with warning, despite the man's tenderness. Watching her friend's body shift from tense discomfort to a mildly relaxed state, George feels her own tension leave her body.

Syn trusts this man. That alone has George giving him the benefit of doubt.

"Hughes? How do you know Syn?" the golden-eyed young man asks as he moves closer to them.

"B-Brother," Syn gasps out, her softened gaze darkening as they turn to the two obvious siblings.

Seeing the dark look in her friend's eyes, George realizes that it was not of hatred, but of distrust. She was familiar with the two younger men in the doorway, but what happened to cause Syn to not trust them?

"Your brother is Hughes?" the blonde-haired man shouts.

Syn shifts to stand up, George watching her friend grip her bleeding shoulder, but the thief immediately recognizes the familiar hunch toward her left, "Syn," Silver eyes turn away from the angry blonde to herself, "You're _bleeding_."

Syn glances down, an amused glint appearing in her silver eyes as her hand shifts to her side, "Well, what do you know. I probably tore them a bit."

George shakes her head, "What am I going to do with you?"

"Shackle me to the ceiling and whip me into shape," Syn retorts, George immediately hearing the innuendo in her friend's words.

"I'll keep that in mind," George remarks, getting a weak chuckle from her friend as an arm is thrown over her shoulder.

"Is it alright if she comes home with me, Maes?" Syn asks, glancing over at Maes as she hangs off of the thief.

George is surprised when Maes agrees without hesitation, but then realizes he must know of Syn's gender. Careful not to aggrivate injuries, George escorts her friend from the room, ignoring the blue-clad soldiers in the hall. After only an hour, George had Syn sprawled across a bed and had just finished re-stitching her wound from their recent adventure. Leaving the room, she sees Maes waiting in the hall and gives him a gentle nod.

"She will be fine. Thank you for your hospitality," she says before making her way toward the second spare room.

* * *

><p>Maes carefully sinks into the chair, staring at the blood-stained bandages in the nearby trash can before looking over the freshly wrapped mid-section of is adopted sister. An entire month and she comes back injured, only to heal Roy after an assassination attempt. Hearing a soft stir, he looks up just as her eyelids flutter apart, stark silver eyes gleaming in the dark room.<p>

"Maes," she greets softly.

"Synthia, what happened?" Maes questions, unable to stop himself.

"Corin is the daughter of the Crux, the late leader of several tribes in Creta. The leader of their rival clan, Dryden, led an attack on one of Crux's villages and Crux ended up poisoned and his wife, Corlya, had been taken as a war-prize," Maes feels his eyes widen, "I arrived, ready and willing to save him, but he refused and pleaded that I rescue his wife."

Syn pauses in her story, her eyes sliding shut, "I had not been prepared so I went through a contact to reach George. George arrived, with weapons in tow, and we snuck into Dryden's mansion. I had George get Corlya out and I went after Dryden."

"What happened?"

Her eyes open at his question, hardened with resolve, "I killed him, but he managed to shoot me in the process. It the reason why I was later in returning home than I previously believed. When I got to a point where I could move around without being in pain, George insisted on returning with me to Central and we arrived in time for Roy's induction."

"So, even though you were already injured, you still saved Roy," Maes shakes his head at her reckless behavior, "I was afraid you were dead."

"I can't die yet," she comments softly, giving him a soft giggle, "I refuse to die until my mission is complete."

"Mission?" Maes asks, curious of her meaning.

"To bring this country to peace. Now that Roy is in an office of power, it will become easier. Though we still need to learn of who placed a hit on Roy. Do you think it was specifically Roy, or just the new Führer?" she muses aloud.

Maes leans forward and presses a kiss to her forehead, "Get some rest. We will talk about this in the morning before the festival."

Standing up, he leaves the room, looking over at the girl once more before closing the door. Glad that she had finally returned, he slid into his bed, wrapping his arms around his sleeping wife. His family was safe.

* * *

><p>Syn stares out of the window above her bed, gazing up at the moon that hangs among the veil of stars. Finally home. The warmth and comfort surrounding her puts her into an eased state of mind. Her thoughts travel to the assassination. Why would someone try to kill Roy? Sure, he is a bit pompous and arrogant, but he carried goals that are resolute and sound. Who is threatened by Roy?<p>

"I called Paul," Syn doesn't glance over at the thief that quietly sinks into the unoccupied chair, "I gave him the assassin's profile and he said he would send us what ever information he can gather. You don't think it's an inside job, do you?"

"No," Syn replies curtly, "The assassin knew his way around Central better than officers do. He's definitely part of a guild of some kind, but not a very good one. His shot was two centimeters above the heart and missed and clips a major artery."

"That kid, the angry one from the hospital, and the other one. They are Van's kids, aren't they?" George asks, leaning back in her seat.

Syn nods, "They are, but they don't need to know of our...acquaintanceship with Van. I don't think they would understand the situation."

"No, they wouldn't. Is that why he seems to be on familiar basis with you?"

Syn glares over at her friend, "I'm not friends with him because of his father, Georgia," Syn ignores the glare in response, "I never asked to be his friend. After I healed his teacher, he felt obligated to befriend me."

"For someone of obligation, he seemed genuinely worried about you," George replies curtly.

Shrugging, the silver eyes snap back to the window, "George, the more acquainted I become with these people, the more liable I am to losing control of the pending situation. Besides, Edward Elric will always side with his brother Alphonse, and that is the way it should be."

"I was under the impression it is normal for siblings to fight," the thief quips in return.

"That might be so, but I'm not going to be the one to come between them. If they fight, let it be on them. I'm not getting involved," Syn sighs out, closing her eyes.

"If the other boy is Alphonse, I noticed he seemed saddened to see you."

"I'm a freak that he believed to be a replacement for him when it comes to his brother. He's not sad, he's worried," Syn shakes her head, "It doesn't matter, George. I have a feeling that this assassination attempt was only the beginning."

Syn opens her eyes to see her friend nodding in agreement before she stands from her chair. The thief gives a gentle farewell and leaves the room. Returning her gaze to the ceiling, Syn closes her eyes as flickers of gold appears at the forefront of her thoughts. No. There would be no point in becoming attached.


	9. Chapter 9

**Awww... Hitori-chan, you always know how to make me smile. I also want to thank XxBishxX and Shadow (sorry, too lazy to type out you're entire pen name). I am pleased you enjoy my story, and feel free to keep me motivated.**

**This chapter deals more with the growing situation between Ed and Syn, and also forging a small bond between Syn and Al. **

**I OWN FMA! YES, I OWN IT. -wakes up- aww man!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Nine<br>**_"It leaves behind a seed that blooms, festers and consumes everything until all that is left is vengeance."_

* * *

><p>The nearly empty tavern was sanctuary. Syn sighs softly, staring into the glass of gentle amber. Unlike most of the people in Central, who were enjoying the festivities after it was announced the new Führer was alright, Syn and George both decided to part ways and get away from the crowd. Syn snorts in her glass as she sips the whiskey, she would bet her left hand that George could steal the watch from a State Alchemist if she wanted to. George, unlike most thieves, always had a motive, and at the moment, she was collecting information from contacts.<p>

Draining the last of her whiskey, she snaps her fingers and gestures toward the empty glass, the bartender nodding in understanding. After waking up earlier that day, she had been greeted by Edward Elric, who seemed offended and angry at her because she failed to tell him about her relations with Maes. Syn gives the bartender a thankful nod as she lifts the glass to her lips again, her thoughts surrounding the FullMetal Alchemist. She didn't remember agreeing to tell him everything about her life, just like she never expected him to tell her of his past.

Hypocrites. How she hates them. Why did it matter if Maes was her brother or not? Not that he really was, but that's besides the point.

"M-Mr. Esare."

The soft stutter causes Syn to snap out of her musings, causing her to turn around slightly. Standing only a few feet behind her, Alphonse Elric looked as though he wished he was anywhere, but near her. His shy tension causes her to sigh and turn back toward the bar.

"My name is Syn, Alphonse. I'm not exactly your elder," Syn says, her tone bored and dismissive.

"May I join you?"

Syn snorts, once again downing the last of her whiskey, snapping for the bartender once more as she says, "If you can tolerate being in the presence of a freak, by all means."

"What can I get you kid?" the bartender asks as Alphonse takes the seat next to her.

"Whatever he's having," A glass of amber whiskey is set in front of the auburn-haired boy, who waits for the bartender walk away, "I want to apologize for what I said that night."

Syn quirks a pierced eyebrow, glancing at him through the mirror behind the bar, "You're a younger brother, used to being your brother's number one and reacted out from jealousy because you felt as though I was replacing you. Why apologize? It's natural for teens to go through it, granted not in an outburst like that, but it is normal."

"Nii-san always said you were wiser than you look," Syn nods, knowing it to be true, "Either way, I _am_ sorry. Everyone was worried when you took off after the argument."

Syn shrugs, "A friend of mine needed help and George and I were delayed."

"Is that where you met George?" Al asks, sipping his whiskey, and she watches in the mirror as his eyes widen, "Wow, this is good."

"It's Xingese, and no. I've known George for a long time," Syn remarks with a soft grin, "Look, Alphonse, I'm not sure why you believed your brother would replace you. I don't think I've heard him speak of _anyone_ with the amount of respect and love he holds for you. That teacher of your's is a close call, but still not at the level when he talks about you. If I had a brother like that growing up," Syn shakes her head humorlessly, "I think I wouldn't be as much of a freak as I am now."

"Call me Al," Syn quirks an eyebrow at the soft smile she receives, but nods in agreement, "I thought Mr. Hughes is your brother?"

"I am the result of an affair," she ignores the softening sympathy in the boy's soft grey eyes, "My mother did not want a child, so I was left at an orphanage. Maes knew nothing about me until a little over two years ago and has been trying to build a relationship between us."

"That would explain why Mr. Hughes had been so busy working the month you went missing," Al muses sadly, "I am sorry for judging you irrationally."

Syn waves him off dismissively, "Please, like I can hold a grudge against a kid like you." Syn smiles gently when a small chuckle slips from her companion, "So, Al, I heard you are a pretty good Alchemist too."

Al shrugs, most likely out of modesty than anything else, "I suppose. I'm nothing like Nii-san, but I'm thinking about studying Alkahestry, which is used more for medicinal purposes than fighting."

"Not a fan of violence either, I take it?" Al shakes his head, eyes growing sad, causing Syn to flash him a saddened smile, "Trust me, Bright-Eyes, I don't like violence either."

"Really? You seem like someone that-" Al cuts himself off as she looks over at him, "I-I mean, with the injuries you had last night, it seems you are not against fighting."

"There are things in life that is worth fighting for, don't you think?" Seeing him nod, she realizes her glass is empty again, and snaps her fingers, once again getting a refill, "See, Bright-Eyes, violence is a poison. It leaves behind a seed that blooms, festers and consumes everything until all that is left is vengeance. I may not like violence, but I never face a fight for my own means," Feeling his confusion, she sips her drink, shrugging before she continues, "My fights, any of them, has always been for the better of other people. People that cannot defend themselves. Nothing good can ever come from violence."

"Why do you call me Bright-Eyes?" Al asks after a passing moment of silence, taking a sip of his second glass of whiskey.

"I can't call you Short Stack, now can I?" She hears him snort in muffled laughter, "I don't know. I tend to give people nicknames after talking to them."

"So, George has a nickname?"

"I like to call her Gigi, but she tells me it makes her sound like a Xingese Chamber Maid," A blush forms on Al's cheeks, his eyes moving from her own, "Sometimes I use it to get a rise out of her."

A silence falls over them, and her senses pick up on the hesitance of her drinking companion before he asks, "If you are not angry with me, then why are you refusing to speak with my brother?"

That was her sign to take her leave, "Listen, Al, you aren't the first person I've met that has referred to me as a freak, and I doubt you will be the last."

"Nii-san was worried when you were gone," Al argues gently.

Tipping back her glass and swallowing the remaining contents, Syn stands from her seat, "In case you haven't noticed, I don't make friends easily. So, warn your brother the next time he extends an offer of friendship, that it is due to a common interest and not out of some sense of obligation."

Ignoring the boy's noises of protest, Syn gives a lazy wave over her shoulder as she slips out of the tavern. Glancing to her right, she sighs at the sight of families rushing toward the city square, enjoying the festivities. Shaking her head, she turns to the left, using the back alleyways as her route home. Unlike earlier, her thoughts surround the youngest of the Elric brothers. Ed had been right about his never-ending kindness, but something was off about the boy. The way he speaks comes of a bit disconnected, especially when it comes to people. It's almost as if something is wrong.

As thought something was missing.

* * *

><p>Arriving at the apartment he shared with his brother, Alphonse let out a soft sigh as he comes upon the hunched over figure sitting at the kitchen table, a glass of dark Amestrian whiskey in his grasp. Nothing is said as he takes the empty seat across from the blonde, his grey eyes looking over the solemn face and thoughtful gold eyes. Was Syn right? Did brother become friends with him because he felt obligated? Staring at his brother, Al wasn't sure. Had it been the catalyst? He had never seen his brother become so wrapped up in worry and guilt over someone and watch it quickly turn to anger and betrayal. Had that been the reason Syn never spoke of his own brother? Did he feel as though Ed didn't truly believe him to be a friend?<p>

"You okay, Al?"

Ed had always been the strongest of the two. Not physically, but emotionally. He always carried the weight of burdens, the memories of the dead and those affected by their quest. Al remembers nothing of their quest, but bits and pieces. Pictures of faces, some of them he sees every day, some he is afraid to ask of, afraid of the answer as to why they are no longer living.

"I ran into him today," Al states, watching as gold eyes snap up from the glass and to his face, "Syn, I stopped at the tavern after speaking with Havoc and the others."

"Is that so?" A cynical tone minced the words that leaves his brother's lips, "What did that asshole say this time?"

"He accepted my apology for the things I said," Al looks down at his laced fingers, "He seemed to be normal."

"Seemed? That ass is always hiding something, Al."

Al shakes his head, looking up at his brother, "Nii-san, why did you become friends with him?" He winces at the glare thrown in his direction, "I'm just wondering. He is a rather odd person, but something must have caused you to consider him a friend."

"I don't know. It's almost as though it just happened. He asked about you and we ended up talking," Ed shrugs mildly, "Then he saved Teacher and I was curious as to why he would risk his well-being for someone he doesn't know."

Al sighs, looking down. Syn had been right. Whether his brother realized it or not, he had forged their friendship out of obligation.

"Why are you curious all of the sudden?" Ed asks, breaking him out of his thoughts.

"You are only friends with him because he saved Teacher?" Al questions, not looking up at his brother.

"Well, yeah, I guess so," Al could picture the careless, nonchalant shrug, and pushes himself to his feet, "Al, what's bothering you?"

"You became friends with him out of obligation? Maybe in the hopes of keeping him around in case someone is hurt," Al meets the gold eyes of his brother, the flicker of guilt barely concealed, "Syn was right to keep his personal life secret. You don't care about him. You care only about what he can do."

Ed is quick to stand, his palms flat on the table, much like Al's, "Damn it, Al, you don't know what you're talking about! Besides, why do you suddenly care?"

"Syn doesn't deserve to be treated and thought of as a tool, Nii-san!" Al snaps in return, tears building in his eyes at the thought of his brother using someone, "I can't believe you! Don't you remember what it was like, feeling as though you had no control over the things we had to do? Don't you remember feeling like Mustang's puppet? Now you're using friendship to keep someone close, just in case you need to save someone's life?"

"Shut the hell up! You don't know what you're talking about, Al. What would you know about it, anyway?" Ed sneers, the affect of the whiskey causing his words to flow harshly.

Al slams a palm against the table at his brother's ignorance, "So what if I can't remember it all!" He shakes his head, "I can't believe you'd use someone like that! What happened? What is it that makes you think it's okay to use someone else's as a tool?"

"YOU DIED!" Ed roars out violently, Al's shoulders tensing, "YOU DIED, AL!"

Pushing back from the table, Al fails to hold back the tears, shaking his head, "It gives you no right to treat Syn like a tool. I never thought I'd be so disappointed in you."

"W-what? Al, where are you going?" Ed demands as Al stumbles away from the kitchen and to the door.

Al pauses at the open door of the apartment, saddened grey eyes peering over at his shoulder, "I refuse to be around a person that is willing to use another person for their own agenda. Syn may not be like other people, but he's still a person. He doesn't deserve to be treated as such."

Al ignores the shouts and pleas as he slams the door behind him, taking to the streets of Central.

* * *

><p>"Syn," Silver eyes snap up, meeting the figure that steps out of the shadows of the alley.<p>

Realizing that it is her favorite thief, Syn relaxes, not realizing she had moved into a defensive stance of any kind, "George. What's going on?"

"I received news from Paul," George says as she steps out of the shadows and moves to stand next to her friend, handing out a file, "It's bad."

"How bad are we talking about?" Syn asks as she opens up file.

"Like, this isn't about that new Führer of your's."

Silver eyes widen, staring down at the information, "You've got to be shitting me. Damn it, George, I thought I shook them off my tail."

"It's hard to ignore the FullMetal Alchemist befriending a random Drachman kid," George replies curtly. "I'm not sure what they want after all these years, but we need to some how get someone on the inside."

Syn glances up from the file, "George. I need you to go Black Heart on this," she pauses as George tenses, "I know we both swore to walk away from that, but they have yet to pin both of us together. You get in their good graces, and I'll stay on this side."

"Are you sure?" George questions, her normally blank eyes flickering with concern, "When this shit hits the fan, you do know they are going to grow suspicious. It may cause them to see you as a traitor."

Syn snickers humorlessly, "You've forgotten, I've already been labeled a liar. Go, George, I need someone I can trust on this, and there's no one else that I'd trust more."

"What will you tell Maes?" Syn sighs at the question, "He's going to know something is wrong."

"When the time comes," Syn pauses, licking her lips, "I have a feeling it won't matter if I tell them or not."

A hand settles on her shoulder, silver meeting green, "I will do everything I can to make sure they don't catch you again. I can hardly stand the memories of last time."

Syn clasps her own hand on George's opposing shoulder, "I know you will."

The two friends break away from each other and Syn watches as George slinks into the darkness once more. Running a hand through her hair, Syn sighs.

Things are about to get ugly.

* * *

><p><strong>Uh oh! What's going on? What will happen? Next time on Heroes and Saviors: A dangerous situation brings the Elric's and Syn closer and Maes begins to suspect the assassin's true reasons for shooting the new Führer. Will we ever learn of how Syn truly came to be the girl we know and love?<strong>

**Stay tuned, leave a review and don't forget to give Syn lots of love. She's going to need it.**


	10. Chapter 10

**I decided to write up a second updated chapter for today because I will most likely not have much time to be on tomorrow. Please enjoy, and leave me reviews for when I return from my trip! Thank you for reading.**

**I OWN FMA! YES, I OWN IT. -wakes up- aww man!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Ten<br>**_"I may have deceived people along the way, but I've never been able to pretend to be anyone other than myself."_

* * *

><p>"How old is she?"<p>

"Seven, almost eight," Maes whispers, clutching his tearful wife.

"When was she last seen, sir?"

"Gracia dropped her off at school this morning. When I arrived to pick her up, she was no where to be seen."

Against the doorway of the living room, Syn Esare leans, her back flat against the threshold, left leg extended for balance as her right foot rests flat against the wide frame behind her. With arms crossed, the nineteen-year-old stares at the ground as the questions and answers mix with the heart-wrenching cries of Gracia. Not once does Syn move from her spot, even as the military officer completes his questioning and slides past her. She doesn't look up, even as her ears twitch to the sound of Maes finally breaking down, his husky cries blending with his wife's.

"Syn?" She grunts in acknowledgment, her fingers gripping her upper arms as she feels her suppressed fury beg for release, "You haven't said anything, or move for that matter."

Dull silver eyes finally look up, the blank gaze causing the two adults to shudder, "How am I supposed to act, Maes? Someone managed to snatch Sugar right from under the noses of several administrators. Tell me how I'm supposed to react." Seeing the uncertainty in their faces, Syn pushes off the wall with a click of her tongue, "Che, that's what I thought."

Dropping her arms, she turns from the living room, stalking her way toward the coat rack. Ignoring the questions as she slips her arms into the sleeves of her duster jacket, Syn exits the house with a slam of the door. It doesn't take her long to arrive to the school property, soldiers surrounding the area and the area blocked off. Ignoring the soldiers, Syn pushes through the barriers as she weaves her way through the moving militant officers. Seeing the familiar figure of the newly appointed Führer giving curt and quick commands, Syn finally comes to a stop off to his right. Knowing that Roy was busy, she isn't surprised he doesn't notice her presence until he catches sight of her from the corner of his eye.

"Esare. I was wondering when you would show up. Where is Maes?"

Syn's blank stare turns on him and she watches his eyes widen slightly before she responds, "At home with Gracia. I decided to come see if there was anything I can do to assist the investigation."

"Unless you can pull evidence out of thin air, there is nothing here that is out of the ordinary," Roy replies curtly, watching her with careful eyes.

Her eyelids slide shut as she allows her senses of expand over the school yard and after a moment of silence, she opens her eyes, "You wouldn't happen to have a piece of chalk on you, would you?"

She grants the Führer a curt nod as he places a piece of chalk in the palm of her fingerless-gloved hand. Moving to the exact center of the school yard, she kneels down and begins drawing out a circle. Pointedly ignoring the whispers of curiosity around her, she continues to add symbols and markings within the symbol. Her dedication to the circle continues for several silent minutes before she stands up, tossing the chalk to the outside of the circle. Stepping to the center of the circle, she inhales deeply before sinking to the ground, her legs crossed and back straight. Inhaling deeply once more, she allows her eyes to slide shut, ignoring the gasps of awe as she feels the circle beneath her activate.

**'You are pushing your limits.'**

_'Show me what I wish to know.'_

**'What will I receive in return.'**

_'The lives of those unworthy.'_

**'You seek the child.'**

_'Yes. Show me.'_

**'Very well.'**

* * *

><p>"What the hell is he doing?"<p>

Having arrived to the scene, the Elric brothers stare at the familiar boy sitting in the middle of an Alchemy circle. The soft silver-blue glow of power causes his hair to dance wildly in the burst of energy. Neither of them have seen or heard of the boy for two weeks now, but upon seeing him now, Ed couldn't stop the slightest amount of guilt. He knew Al was right in his disappointment toward him, but that doesn't stop the oldest of the brothers two suspect the Drachman kid was hiding something.

"He arrived twenty minutes ago and hasn't moved since," Mustang states curtly, eyes never moving from the boy in the middle of the circle.

Gasps of horror echo from the crowd as the silver-blue light lets out a crackle of red. Gold eyes widen at the sight before meeting the gaze of his equally horrified brother. The circle seemed to be rebounding. The moment both of them take a step forward a violent surge of energy resonated through the ground, and a sound similar to a hollow implosion rumbles beneath their feet as the silver-blue circle flickers to a violent red. Instantly their arms move to cover their faces as the sudden surge of energy forces dirt, dust and sand to kick up into the air.

"Syn!" Al shouts out, coughing as he inhales the dust.

As the dust settles, the crowd sighs at the sight of the boy unharmed and the light having gone out. Ignoring the shouts of his brother, Al races forward and skids to a stop in front of the boy, who managed to pull himself to his feet. The stiff tension in Syn's body causes Al to tentatively reach out before resting his hand gently on the shorter boy's shoulder. As dull silver eyes snap open, Al fights back his gasp as he stares into the once cheerful, wise gaze.

"S-Syn?" Al croaks out.

The unfocused gaze seems to snap to attention, staring at him as if he could see right through him, "Al, I request that you remove your hand from my person."

The cold, empty voice causes the brown-haired Alchemist to yank back his hand as if burned, "Are you okay?"

Syn does not respond as he turns on heel and stalks away from the circle, Al quick on his heels as the shorter boy makes his way toward Mustang and Ed. A heavy tension fills the air as he stops, looking over Mustang, who seems to nod in acknowledgment, as if knowing what he was thinking. Syn's emotionless gaze turns on Ed, who tenses in response, as if waiting for some outburst. Instead, Syn nimbly steps around the two Alchemists and starts to make his way out of the school yard.

"Wait a minute," Ed calls out, grabbing Syn by the shoulder.

Syn doesn't respond as he brings his elbow back, the joint connecting solidly with Ed's open and unprotected diaphragm, knocking the air out of his chest. Al immediately runs to his brother's hunched over side as Syn stares down at them with cold eyes.

"Syn!" Al shouts in horror.

"I was hoping that someone as smart as you, FullMetal," The eyes of both brothers widen at the use of Ed's nickname, "would understand exactly what I plan to do."

"What's that? You think you can track Elicia down by yourself?" Ed sneers, glaring as he finally is able to stand upright.

"No," Syn retorts blandly, "There is absolutely no thought needed. I _plan_ on bringing her home, whether I'm by myself or not means nothing."

"I'm going with you," Al states firmly, ignoring the hiss of his name, "Elicia is like family. I want to help."

Syn stares at him for a moment before nodding, "Very well. Try not to put yourself in my way."

Syn grants Mustang one last nod before racing off, Al following quickly with his older brother hot on his heels. The three teens move through the city of Central, both brothers growing more tense as they follow the Drachman boy into the seedier parts of town. Syn moves with determination and an air of self-confidence, a lit cigarette between his lips as he pointedly ignores the sideways looks from thugs. Ed instinctively moves closer to his brother, who shifts in discomfort at the leering stares. Following Syn around a corner, both freeze when Syn's arm extends and meets the wall, stopping them from moving forward, his cold gaze focusing on both of them.

"Either get your shit together, or get lost. Both of you are too obvious and I can't do this if I have to keep an eye on you two," Syn sneers, "Either put on a mask and fake it, or beat it."

"Well, sorry if we aren't adverse to needing to pretend to be someone we're not," Ed snaps in a low hiss.

Syn's eyebrows narrow, a growl echoing from his chest, "Grow the fuck up, you ass. I'm not about to risk the life of a child because you can't put on an act of indifference for five minutes."

"Guys, please don't fight," Al pleads weakly, looking between both the boys.

Ed huffs before Syn pulls away from the wall and walks a few paces forward before slipping into a doorway. They watch silently as he knocks in a small, coded series with his knuckles. A small slit in the door slides open and bored brown eyes stare back at them. They wait as the gaze looks over each of them in assessment.

"Password?" a gruff voice demands.

"How about you open the fucking door before I do it for you," Syn snaps coldly.

The brown eyes flicker in recognition before a muttered curse hisses past the man's lips. The slit slams shut before a series of locks click and snap from their placements and the door swings open forcefully. The large man standing in the threshold stares wide-eyed at Syn, who quirks an eyebrow in response. The brothers are surprised when the mass of muscles springs away from the doorway and motions for them to enter. A slam fills the room as the door shuts behind them, but the trio make their way through the halls, the brothers watching as people wave and greet Syn with a sense of respect, only to be ignores as the smaller boy leads them to a room at the end of the hall. Without knocking, Syn turns the knob and enters the room.

Ed and Al both blush as a squeal leaves the lips of a barely dressed woman, sitting on top of a large mahogany desk, her eyes staring widely at the trio as the man pressed against her pulls his mouth from her exposed breasts. Unlike the brothers, Syn does not remove his gaze as the man lets out a curse, standing upright as the woman slips her arms into the sleeves of her button-down shirt. It isn't long before the man dismisses the woman, who barrels out of the room. Sliding into a vacant chair, Syn leans back and stares at the man who avoids the blank gaze as he fixes the stacks of files on his desk.

"Since when do you bring other kids in here?" the man asks, curious blue eyes looking over the Elric brothers, who stand silently behind Syn's chair.

Syn rolls his eyes at the attempt at small talk, "They aren't really important," Ed sends the boy a glare which is waved off lazily, "I need a parcel."

"The same one as last time?" Ed shares a look with his brother as Syn shakes his head, "What kind of parcel?"

"A seven-year-old girl was kidnapped from a highly protected school yard," Syn states, his eyes watching as the man's blue eyes widen at the news, "Unlike most of the scum in this side of town, I'm not here for my own benefit. I need both long and close range because I am not sure exactly what I'm up against at the moment."

"Any idea on who took the kid?" the man asks as he begins writing down something on a piece of paper.

"Probably the same group that put the hit on Mustang," Syn's comment gains him wide looks from both of the brothers, "Mustang is able to handle himself, but this kid may not be so lucky."

Blue eyes snap up to meet Syn's and both brothers get the feeling of a silent conversation passing between their gazes because Syn soon nods curtly, a muttered curse leaving the man's lips. The blonde man before them reaches over and rings a bell of some kind and not a moment later a younger man rushes into the room, taking the paper from his grasp before disappearing from the room.

"You shouldn't be messing with these guys, Syn," the man states, genuine concern flickering in the blue eyes.

Ed is surprised to see Syn's eyes soften at the words, "I know, but I don't have a choice."

"Syn, you know what these guys want. I understand the new Führer is a friend of your's, and this girl must be special for you to risk facing them."

The words cause something to click in Ed's mind and as he glances over at Al, he realizes his brother seems to have realized it also, but Syn's fingers grip the arm rest tightly, "That girl is family," The trio watch as the man's eyes widen at the word that leaves the Drachman's lips, "Last time I checked, I am bound to them."

The door opens to the room once again and a case is placed on the desk in front of Syn, who stands up and unsnaps the latches. Ed feels a sickening feeling clench his stomach at the sight of a various amount of bladed-weapons and two matching guns resting in the case. Ed tries to say something as Syn begins to strap the weapons to his body, both of the guns holstered against the outside of his thighs, two twin swords sheathed along his back, one hilt resting against the back of right shoulder as the other presses against the left side of his lower back.

"Syn," Silver eyes snap up after the case is closed, all the weapons once inside the case now strapped to his body, "Please be careful. There are some of us that would like you to grow past the age of twenty."

Syn gives the older man a small smirk, clapping a hand against his shoulder, "Relax. I promise that once this is all over, they are going to wish they had _never_ fucked with me the first time around."

Syn turns on heel and leaves the room, the Elric brothers in tow.

* * *

><p>Syn sighs at the tension between her and Ed as she presses her back against the wall, staring around the corner at the guarded warehouse. With a sigh, she pulls herself back around the side of the building and kneels, checking the ammunition of one of her guns, slapping the magazine back into place while looking up into the wide expectant gazes of the Elric's. Sighing once again, she sits back on her haunches.<p>

"Out with it and make it quick. I won't have time for it later," Syn snaps out tiredly, her back pressed against the wall.

"What the hell is going on? I have a feeling you know a lot more than what you're letting on," Ed demands, gold eyes glaring darkly at her.

Syn rolls her eyes, "Look, I can't explain everything at the moment, because we don't exactly have enough time. Let's just say, that I may or may not have pissed someone off in a past life and they are out to do anything to destroy what is left of my life. With that being said, you can understand why both Mustang and Sugar have been compromised."

Ed and Al share a look, causing her to sigh again, "Alright, listen, I haven't had the easiest life and unlike the two of you, I didn't exactly have a choice in how I grew up. I had to make due with the best that I had and sadly enough, my past isn't a pleasant one. I have done things I would never be proud of and yes, I may have deceived people along the way, but I've never been able to pretend to be anyone other than myself."

"How can we believe that?" Ed asks, angry, but slightly concerned by her tone.

Syn rubs the back of her neck, "I don't know that you can. The only person I've ever been able to be myself around is George, then came Maes and the rest of you kind of fell into place. Look, let's get Sugar out of this hell hole, and I promise, I _swear_, I will tell you whatever you want to know."

Glancing around the corner of the building again, Syn motions that it's time and the brothers rush toward the warehouse, never noticing the guilty glint that appears in her eyes. With a sigh, Syn glances toward the night sky, cursing her existence.

Not for the first time.

* * *

><p>Ed could feel his face grow pale with each person that falls before Syn's blades, the boy slicing down anyone who stood in his way. It surprised Ed to watch the kid he considered a friend taking the lives of others with practiced ease, the ebony-haired boy seemingly not bothered as blood sprays his clothing and stains the metal of his blade. Giving his younger brother a glance, Ed grimaces at the equally pale face gaining a slightly green tint. Breaking into the main room of the warehouse, the trio skid to a stop at the sight of a terrified Elicia gripped firmly in the arms of a dangerous man.<p>

"Welker," Syn sneers, silver eyes growing cold at the sight of the small girl in the man's grasp.

"Esare," Welker greets with a sickening charming smile.

Ed didn't like the way the man's beady eyes travel over Syn's lithe frame, "Let the girl go."

Welker's beady gaze glances toward the two brothers before snapping back to Syn, "You know what I want, Esare."

For the first time since Ed had met the currently stoic boy, a sickening shiver of disgust shakes Syn's body, who clenches the blood-stained blade, "If you let her go, I will come quietly."

"Syn!" "No!"

Ed and Al both tense as he turns to them, cold eyes softening, "I'm sorry, but I can't allow Elicia to get involved in this. I am capable of handling far more than she can and I don't have it in me to risk Elicia. Not when her parents are so completely broken up about her kidnapping."

"You can't," Al takes a step toward him.

Syn gives him a soft smile, a blood-stained hand falling on the brown-haired boy's shoulder, "You're a good kid, Bright-Eyes."

Ed tenses as Syn steps away from Al and moves to stand before him. He swallows the sudden lump in his throat as his golden gaze clashes with soften molten silver. What is he supposed to say? He knows Syn well enough that Syn won't think twice of turning himself over to this creep if it meant to save someone.

"I'm sorry, Short Stack," Syn murmurs and Ed feels his heartbeat speed up as the boy's hand settles on his left shoulder, "Our friendship may have been forged out of some sense of obligation, but I have never had someone that worried about my health."

"It wasn't out of obligation," the words leave his lips before he can think of them, but he doesn't wait to finish, "It might have started that way, but I did want to be friends with you."

Syn's eyes soften even more, "I know. Ed, I _am_ sorry."

Ed opens his mouth to respond when a pair of soft lips presses against his own. He could hear his own heartbeat in his ear, a heat spreading along his body as his mind takes in the sensation of the boy's lips. Before he can respond, he is shoved back and Syn turns on heel dashing across the distance toward the man. Ed parts his lips to yell, but it falls silent as Elicia is pushed toward them, the small girl instantly running toward the brothers. Seeing Syn turn back to them, Ed feels a new sensation fill him at the look in the silver eyes. The determination staring back at him. A silent promise of a return.

Then they are gone.


	11. Chapter 11

**Shadow-chan and Hanashi-chan and Hitori-chan thank you sooo much for reviewing my previous chapters. I'm afraid that this chapter is a bit...darker than the rest. I'm afraid that...well...it isn't pretty, but I promise Syn isn't going down without a fight. Some of the scenes with Syn I closed off some of the...more graphic points because I understand that some subjects are difficult for people to read and I don't want people to become uncomfortable while reading this story. I mean, I have read some graphic content and even I (me being pretty morbid in the head) felt sickened by it.**

**More of Syn's past is revealed!**

**I OWN FMA! YES, I OWN IT. -wakes up- aww man!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Eleven<br>**_"I am going to enjoy ripping out your throat with my bare hands."_

* * *

><p>Lying sprawled across his bed, Edward Elric stare at the ceiling, recent memories plaguing his mind. Why had Syn kissed him? Ed groans, remembering the soft lips against his own. It had been brief, quick and carried some faint meaning behind it. It filled Ed with a swirl of emotions he had never dealt with. Sure, he had always noticed Syn carried an exotic appearance, one that seemed to catch the eye of men and women alike. The bartender at the tavern. The blonde guy they had met with before rescuing Elicia. Even Havoc had shown a sense of appreciation for the boy's looks.<p>

Ed never really considered the boy a friend. It had always felt as though there was some deeper sense of understanding between them. Even when they were fighting, he found it difficult to hate the boy. Al told him that Syn hadn't been all that upset by his brother's words, seemed more understanding toward Al's situation. Did Syn know about them? About what they had done? If not, would he ever look at them the same way?

Sighing, Ed shakes his head, wondering why the boy had kissed him. Was it to mess with his head? He had always teased about Ed being a good boyfriend. Was Syn...attracted to boys? It seemed...wrong. Yet thinking back, Syn had always been open. Maybe not physically, and he sure as hell didn't talk about his past often, but Syn always acted the same way. A love of life. A hatred toward the corrupt. A self-appointed duty to help those in need, even if they never ask for it.

Groaning, Ed sits upright from his bed. At this rate, he's never going to get any sleep. They needed answers. Answers Syn never gave. Things didn't add up and Ed is sure that the Drachman boy was hiding something dangerous.

* * *

><p>Distant footsteps causes the empty silver eyes of Syn Esare to open, the suffocating heat of the dingy room causing her body to weaken. Even with endless beads of sweat rolling down the length of her body, she still couldn't get out of the binds. Glancing up at her wrists, the shackles digging into the flesh of her wrists, she groans inwardly at the weight of her limp body putting strain on the muscles of her arms. Licking her lips, she grimaces at the mixture of iron and salt, spitting it on the floor at her feet, her toes barely touching the floor beneath. Hearing the scratch of metal-on-metal, she looks up as two figures step into the room.<p>

Welker. The asshole didn't deserve to live. Syn looks over his mild-build with empty eyes. His black beady eyes scanning over her barely dressed body, a single white cloth draped and wrapped around her body, keeping her feminine _assests_ from view but providing less modesty than she'd like.

The second person that enters the room stares at her, vibrant green eyes displaying disgust freely. The intricate braid of black hair dangles over the shoulder of the lithe figure. Black Heart. Syn watches as she steps closer, slowly walking around her bound body before stopping a foot away from her face.

"Delivered right to your hands as ordered. Now, hand over the money," Black Heart demands curtly, staring back at Syn with blank eyes.

"Traitor," Syn spits out.

Black Heart giggles humorlessly, "Please, you make it too easy, _Synthia_."

"Go to Hell, bitch," Syn sneers, this time spitting at her feet.

A smack rings through the room, Syn's head forcefully snapping to the side, her cheek blooming red, "Come on. Did you not see this coming? You should really be careful of the people you help in the future. Some might actually care about you and others," Black Heart shrugs as she takes the envelope extended to her, "Well, others are only in it for a decent pay."

Syn watches as the thief leaves the room without looking back, never noticing how long she had been staring until an arm curves around her side, a large hand flat against her stomach. Knowing exactly what Welker has in mind, Syn's blank gaze stares at the closed door as the hand slides down her stomach and along her bare thigh.

_Hydrogen._

Her thought begin to push to the forefront of her mind, her body remaining lax as teeth clap around her clavicle, breaking the skin as rough fingers swipe along the apex of her thighs.

_Helium._

A metallic thud clatters behind her, mixing with the rustle of cloth.

_Lithium._

The heat of the bare body behind her presses against her backside, the evidence of arousal hard and firm against her skin.

_Beryllium!_

Her barely wince as a searing pain burns hot along her nerves, the fingers gripping the tops of her thighs tightly with the first rough penetration.

_Boron! Carbon! Nitrogen! Oxygen! Fluorine! Neon!_

Her mind continues naming off all of the elements known to man, stubborn to ignore the savage abuse of her body. She isn't sure how much time passes during the torturous pain, her mind still naming off elements as the cruel man leaves the room with a slam of the door. _Silver_. The last element named. The forty-seventh element known to current man. Feeling the vile substance running down her thighs, she closes her eyes, a familiar memory on the forefront of her mind.

_**"These symbols on your arms are incredible," the golden-eyed man stated as his gaze moved over the expanse of her forearms. "The symbols on the left differ from the symbols on the right. If we can figure out what they mean, we can figure out exactly what they did to you."**_

_**"Thank you for agreeing to help me. I don't remember much of what they did, but I feel as though something is trying to escape, as if there is something tangent beneath my skin," Syn said as she stared at the man before her.**_

_**XxXx**_

_**"T-This is impossible," the man stuttered, three months having passed since they started their studies.**_

_**"Yet it has become obvious as to exactly what I am," Syn said, her voice soft with sorrow, "I can't allow them to get me. Who knows what will happen."**_

_**"Is there somewhere you can go?" he asked her, golden eyes soft and worried.**_

_**She nods curtly, "I do. I can't thank you enough for helping me. If you ever need help on your own quest, you know how to get a hold of me."**_

* * *

><p>"We have someone in custody that may be able to shed some light on our missing friend."<p>

Lounging lazily on the couch in Mustang's office, Ed rolls his eyes, wondering what the Führer had in mind. Maes, who is Syn's brother, had no clue about the people after Syn. Who else could there possibly be? Was there someone out there that knows Syn better than his own sibling?

Ed's eyes widen as two military police officers shove a familiar green-eyed girl. George. The Bastard actually thinks George will be able to tell us anything? Ed's gaze follows George as she sinks into a chair, bored green eyes looking everyone over before she leans back, arms crossing over her chest in a memento to defiance.

"Is there a reason why I was escorted from the station the moment I arrived in Central?" George demands, quirking a lazy eyebrow.

"Syn Esare was taken by a man identified as Welker," Ed watches as George's eyes flicker darkly at the name, and it seems as though Mustang caught the glint as well, "We want to know why someone would kidnap a child in order to get to Syn."

"What makes you think I would know?" George asks curtly, "It really isn't my place to speak on Syn's behalf."

"We need to know who poses a threat to the people of Amestris," Mustang argues.

George snorts at the thought, "It sure is a shame Syn can't be considered a person of Amestris than."

"Syn said he knew you the longest out of anyone," Al points out, "Actually, he insinuated that he met you before he came across General Hughes. If that is the case, then Syn has been around the area a lot longer than two years."

George sighs, Ed barely catching the sound of a muttered curse, before the girl looks up at the ceiling, "Why don't you tell me everything you actually know about Syn, and I will fill in the blanks to the best of my ability."

Ed glances over at Hughes, who seems flustered before he nods in agreement, "I met Synthia Esare a little over two years ago when I was shot by a Homunculus masquerading as my wife," Ed feels as though he had been punched in the chest, his eyes widening, "The next morning, I woke up to her completely healed and making Elicia breakfast as if it was an everyday occurrence. When we started talking, she stated that she had been born in the year 1993 in a world parallel to our own," Another lie, "and that she had been brought into our world after she was killed in the midst of protecting someone."

"Sounds about right," George says, nodding thoughtfully, "Did she happen to mention the part where she died in the year 2005, leaving her dead at the age of twelve?"

"So, she's been a part of this world for seven years now?" Al states, "Five years before she met General Hughes."

George nods, "That's about right. I didn't meet her until six years ago, and she was...an odd one at that."

"How did you meet her?" Mustang questions.

"Ever hear of a thief named Black Heart?" The Elric's shake their heads, but notice the eyes of the senior officers widen, "Well, then you know that Black Heart was probably the best thief known in this world. Never missed a hit, never failed a mission and never took a life. In-out, quick as they come."

"Yeah. It's said Black Heart went off the grid about four years ago," Mustang's eyes narrow at the girl, "Are you trying to tell us that Syn is Black Heart?"

Ed snorts, his thoughts running a mile a minute, "Seeing as though _she's_ been lying to us for how long? I wouldn't be surprised."

"First thing, pipsqueak," Ed growls at the insult as George's eyes settle on him, "I am Black Heart. Second, Syn couldn't lie even if it meant to save her life."

"Right, so leading people on to believe she's a boy?" Ed sneers in return.

George snorts, "Omission of the truth," Ed opens his mouth to argue that it's the same thing, "Syn has taken to traveling in the guise of a boy for reasons and technically none of you asked if she was a guy so she never technically lied. She allows people to believe what they think they see. If you ask her a flat out question, her answers are the solid truth, unless she chooses not to answer the question. It is literally _impossible_ for her to lie."

"What do you mean?" Al asks softly, placing a hand on Ed's shoulder to try and calm him down.

"It's..." George pauses, trying to find the right word, "Ingrained into her."

"Ingrained?"

George sighs, running a hand through her loose bangs, "I can't even begin to tell you what happened to Syn the year before we met. All I know, is that during the first year of us traveling together, she had nightmares every night," Ed swallows as he sees the usually stoic green eyes grow soft with sorrow, "All I know is that Welker is a part of her past that caught up with her about three years ago and if we don't find her soon, I'm afraid the Syn we know now will no longer exist."

"What do you mean?" Hughes asks, looking at the girl in fear.

"I happen to be a master of deceit," Ed snorts in agreement, receiving a glare in return, "and after the assassination attempt on Mustang, Syn requested that I return to the life of Black Heart to gather information. A few days before Elicia was kidnapped, I came across some information pertaining to both of the incidences being set up by a man named Welker," George shifts in discomfort, "I-I am currently posing as a trusted member of this group, smuggling information between the leader and his subordinates, Welker being one of them."

"So you know where Syn is being held?" Mustang reasons, realizing why this girl had gone missing in the last few weeks.

George nods, "I do, but the facility is impossible to break into, even with a full-frontal attack. In three days, Syn is supposed to be moved from Welker's facility to the leader's care. If Syn falls under the leader's care, there won't be anything left of the Syn we know."

* * *

><p>"Tell us how it works, Synthia."<p>

"It starts with me getting out of here, and ends with you in Hell."

A sickening crack snaps through the air and Syn swallows the urge to scream as the metal-tipped leather strikes against the skin of her back.

"Tell us how it works."

"Your head on a spike." **Crack!**

"Tell us how it works."

"Okay! I'll tell you!" Syn inhales deeply, staring at Welker as he raises his hand to stop the man behind her, "One cog triggers the second hand!" **Crack!** "Once it completes a cycle," **Crack!** "The cog controlling the minute hand ticks forward once." **Crack!** Syn lets out a laugh of hysterics, "Oh and I bet you can't guess what happens when the minute hand completes a cycle!" **Crack! Crack! Crack!** Syn inhales, the her nerves growing numb from the pain and she giggles, "I swear to all that is good in this world, I am going to enjoy ripping your throat out with my bare hands."

The pain is suddenly gone and Syn looks up to see Welker moving away from the door, whispering to someone on the other side. Fear fills her mind at the sight of the silver glinting in Welker's hands. Struggling against her binds, she bites back the urge to scream as the metal shackles dig deep into the open cuts along her wrists.

"Ah, so you do know what these are for."

"No! You can't!" Syn snaps out weakly.

Welker steps closer to her, taking both of the thick silver bangles and strapping them around her wrists. The sensation is instant as the symbols etched into the silver glimmer a soft golden-red sheen. The shackles are unclasped and Syn groans as her body instantly drops to the floor, eyes screwed shut tightly as a new sensation of burning heat pours through her body.

Welker smirks as he leaves the room, her screams of agony bouncing off the walls, following him like a beautiful sound of music.


End file.
